Harry Potter and the Legacy of Slytherin
by bragg247
Summary: Pre-OotP 5th Year Fic. Harry must help his friends realise their feelings for each other, while dealing with some confusing feelings of his own. Meanwhile, Voldemort tries to regain the mysterious 'Legacy of Slytherin'... {Chapter 12 Uploaded, 11 Edited!}
1. Lord of Azkaban

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Harry Potter and the Legacy of Slytherin

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**_Chapter 1_**

**_Lord of Azkaban_**

The pale, cold moonlight shone overhead, giving the island prison of Azkaban the look of a tomb. The huge, featureless walls of the fortress towered above forbidding mountain peaks, all looming over an icy, rock-filled sea. Fog swirled around the towers of the fortress endlessly, blocking the light and putting the island in perpetual gloom. Invisibility spells kept anyone from seeing the island, sparing them the miserable sight. Muggle-repelling charms covered every inch of the beaches, and powerful wards protected anyone from straying too close.

Anyone who had visited Azkaban would tell you that the look was perfectly appropriate for what happened here. But very few people left Azkaban, and none of them left without leaving a piece of themselves behind. Things happened in those dark walls, unseen by the wizarding world. No matter why you were sent here, no matter how guilty or innocent you were, what happened in Azkaban was enough to break your mind and rob you of the deepest, most precious fragments of your soul.

It was the keepers of the prison that were responsible for this, the ones that truly earned the place such a fearsome reputation. The tall, gruesome Dementors were the reason this was the most feared place in the wizarding world, and with good reason. These lumbering creatures with their clammy appearance and their cold, lipless mouths had to wear thick, black cloaks to hide themselves from the rest of the world, or just their ghastly appearance would horrify a man to the depths of his being.

But what was in the cloaks was horrific for far better reasons than mere appearance. Something about these creatures sucked the very life out the air and made everything around them seem dead and hopeless. Only once this had driven you to despair and driven your mind to breaking point would the cowls of those dark hoods drop. Then, you would see those dead, sightless eyes, and those thin, cruel mouths. Those cold, clammy lips would perform their kiss, and whatever was left of your soul would be burned away. It was the kind of thought that made screams ring out in those cold nights.

Nobody would willingly come here. The gigantic double doors at the front of the prison were almost never used, and to most of the prisoners, it seemed that they were just there to taunt them. To remind them that there was an entire world outside, that they would most likely never see again. The thought of escape was preposterous. Even if you could make it through those doors, the Dementors would follow you to the ends of the Earth. They would never stop. They would never give up.

At least, that was how it seemed to Tobias Lestrange, as he lay on his back in his cell, at the top of the highest tower in the fortress. There was no way out of this place, and he would rot here. But then he shook his head, and wrote it off as the effects of the Dementors' presence. There was hope for him now, as there had not been ever since his incarceration in this dank, gloomy prison. Even now, the mark that was seared onto his arm burned him, hot to the touch. His master had arisen again, and surely he would come to rescue his loyal servant.

The Dark Mark on his arm had burned fiercely for weeks now. Lestrange had no idea when it had started, because time seemed to have very little importance in Azkaban. In fact, he had stopped paying any attention to the time long ago, and only started trying to keep track of the days since the mark had started to throb. But very little light got through the fog, making it impossible to judge the passing of the days.

Lestrange walked over to the window and pulled himself up to look out of the bars. There was no reason to do this, but there was really no reason to do anything. Lying in a cell for years has a way of focusing the mind, and now there was only one thing on Lestrange's mind. Wait for the master. This had been his routine ever since the mark started to burn all those days ago, and if it took ten years, then he would gladly wait. Just to serve the master once more. But as he looked down, he realised it wouldn't take ten years.

A dark figure had appeared at the huge entrance to the prison, and walked, without hesitation, to the door. The door opened to admit him, a huge Dementor on each side holding it open. Their eyes could never see who it was, but some kind of perception told them who it was. Just as it was clear to Lestrange who it was. The dark, powerful figure that strode through the now-opened doors could only be one person. His master had arrived.

* * * * *

Lord Voldemort walked through the door, looking at the Dementors on each side. At each corridor, more Dementors stood, obedient, loyal and silent. The Dementors could not see, but they could sense the thoughts of those around them. They understood the dark processes of Voldemort's mind and felt what was inside his heart. The dark hatred within Voldemort was like a siren's song to them. It called out to them, like a part of their own darkness calling to them. Voldemort, like them, was a creature of darkness, and these kindred spirits were united once more.

Behind him, Voldemort could hear the sounds of people using a portkey. Lucius Malfoy and Wormtail had appeared behind him, clutching a battered silver plate in their hands. They walked up to the door, and stood by the side of their master. Wormtail looked like a pile of dirty rags on Voldemort's right side, and looked like he had not washed, shaved or considered his appearance for weeks. However, his shining, magical hand still gleamed like new, and seemed to glow with an unnatural, unnerving light in the deep gloom of Azkaban.

Lucius Malfoy, standing on Voldemort's left, was the very antithesis of Wormtail. While Wormtail was stooped, defeated and dishevelled, his thinning hair flapping in the breeze, Malfoy stood tall and proud, his gelled blond hair untroubled by the light winds. He was clean and well groomed, and almost looked like he had dressed especially for the occasion. He was impeccably dressed, with most of his body hidden by a thick cloak of a deep, light-absorbing purple. But most disturbing of all were the cold, grey eyes that looked at the scene before him, with a stony, unnerving sense of detachment.

The Dementors stood, waiting for their master's command. They paid no attention to Malfoy and Wormtail, treating them as if they were an insignificance. They only had eyes for their master, who had finally returned to them. They had all assembled around the entrance to Azkaban, as they had known of the Dark Lord's presence the minute the portkey brought him to the island. For most of the fourteen years since his downfall, they had stood watch over Azkaban. Watching over those that the Ministry of Magic found it convenient to forget, biding their time until Voldemort returned to them.

Voldemort remained silent, acknowledging the Dementors' readiness with a nod. Then, he raised one arm, and pointed a single long, spindly finger toward the cells. The Dementors obeyed his command, walking to the cells, ready to release those imprisoned within. Then, Voldemort turned to Wormtail, and directed him to follow them. Wormtail blanched at the idea of following those grim creatures to the cellblock. However, he could not disobey his master, and he turned to follow the Dementors to the nearby cells.

Finally, Voldemort said a few quiet words to Lucius Malfoy, and gestured toward a downward staircase nearby, which led to the dungeons. As he had been directed, Lucius Malfoy went down the staircase, prepared to do his master's bidding. After seeing him leave, Voldemort stood still, and looked around the room appraisingly, as if he could taste the misery and depression that pervaded the room. Then he walked across the room, and started to walk up the staircase, going up to the main tower.

* * * * *

Wormtail followed the Dementors to the main cells, hearing the cries of the people inside them. Some were screaming, driven too far by the presence of the Dementors to notice the arrival of Wormtail. Still others called out to him, begging to be released from their cells. Some of them just stared, wondering what was to happen to them now. Walking down this corridor was like walking through the gates of hell. The sheer sound and stench of the place would revile a man, and make him turn and run in disgust.

However, the cell Wormtail was going to was at the end of the row, so he kept walking past the mass of prisoners calling after him. His master had given him a specific task, one which must be completed to let the wizarding world see that his master had truly returned. Wormtail had taken the lead, walking in front of the Dementors, leading them to one particular cell. He detested the presence of the Dementors, but they were necessary. He would require them to fulfil his task.

Wormtail reached the door of the cell he had been sent to, and looked inside. The man he was looking for was inside, staring back at Wormtail through the bars of the cell door. For a moment, they just looked at each other wordlessly. Then, he ran to the door, and pressed his face between the bars. Wormtail could clearly see the look of despair in his eyes, and the pale look of skin that had not seen the sun in many years. Then his dry, thin lips started to move.

"Pettigrew! I thought you were-"

"No. I have been in hiding, working to bring about my master's rebirth. You, on the other hand, have been waiting here to be released, and to do the master's bidding again?"

"Yes... I knew he would rise again. I am ready to do whatever my master wishes."

"Good. My master has plans for you..."

With those words, Wormtail unlocked the door to the cell, and then stood aside, allowing two Dementors to walk into the room. For a moment, the man in the cell looked confused, not realising what was about to happen to him. Suddenly, his fate dawned on him, and he backed against the wall, screaming for mercy. The Dementors did not stop coming, and continued to advance on him. At the doorway, Wormtail watched the Dementors' advance, and listened to their victim's anguished, tormented screams. But he had to look away before the Dementors performed their Kiss.

* * * * *

As the screams died away, at the top of the tallest tower in the prison, Voldemort stood in the now-opened doorway to Tobias Lestrange's cell. He stood and looked at the ruin of a man that the cell contained. Lestrange was standing by the window, his cold, deadened eyes wide and staring, his matted locks twisted around his face. Lestrange was thin, his skin was waxy and his clothes were rags. This was a man that had suffered his own personal hell for the last few years, and had survived by hinging his very sanity on one, overriding obsession.

That obsession was now standing in the doorway, larger and more menacing than it seemed possible for a man to be. It was all Lestrange could do not to fall to his knees and weep, knowing that finally his wait was over. Instead, he just continued to stand and stare, waiting for the dark figure's command. Suddenly, for the first time since his incarceration, Lestrange heard his master's rasping, menacing voice.

"Tobias. I have come for you. Are you prepared? Ready to stand at my side once more?"

"Yes, Master. I have waited for you."

"Good. It is time for us to reclaim our place in the wizarding world. It is time for us to reclaim the legacy of Slytherin. Come. I have other servants to release."

* * * * *

As Voldemort set to work releasing his servants in Azkaban, someone realised that something was happening. Half a world away, a certain 14-year-old boy woke up, with a searing pain in a lightning-bolt shaped scar on his forehead.

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Disclaimer: All characters in this FanFiction belong to JK Rowling. They aren't mine, and I am making no money from using them like this. This is a 'Please don't sue me' production.

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So, that was Chapter 1 of my first Harry Potter story. Doesn't really tell you very much about what's going to happen, does it? In fact, this is just an excuse for Voldemort to wander around and look menacing. But there will be more happening later. And who knows? Maybe Harry will actually do something in the next chapter! ;)

Well, you've read the story! Now, be nice and review it, could you?


	2. How to use a Fellytone

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Harry Potter and the Legacy of Slytherin

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**_Chapter 2_**

**_How to Use a Fellytone_**

Harry chewed on his bottom lip, trying desperately not to scream while the scar on his forehead felt like it was burning a hole in his face. He knew that screaming would bring the Dursleys out of their beds, which would be tantamount to asking to be imprisoned in his room for a week. The Dursleys were as unmagical as it was possible to be, and they would not understand the link Harry's scar gave him to Voldemort, even if it was possible to persuade them to listen to any discussion of magic.

Thirteen years ago, Voldemort attacked and killed Harry's parents, and then tried to kill Harry as well. But the Killing Curse that Voldemort used rebounded back on him, leaving Voldemort disembodied and weakened, and leaving Harry with a deep scar on his forehead. That scar was not only a reminder that he had survived Voldemort's attack, but also gave Harry a link to Voldemort. Whenever Voldemort was doing something particularly evil, or whenever he was close by, Harry's scar throbbed painfully.

Last year, Voldemort and his servant Wormtail had captured Harry, and used his blood to restore Voldemort to his body. Since then, it appeared that Harry's link to Voldemort had strengthened, as the pain in the scar was greater. While the scar was hurting, Harry had also been able to see what Voldemort was doing, and so had seen what Voldemort had done, and where they were. But at the moment, the pain was far too intense for Harry to think about that.

Clutching his scar with his right hand, Harry rocked back and forth on his bed, trying to absorb what he had seen. He had observed everything Voldemort had done, but had no idea what Lucius Malfoy and Wormtail did after they left Voldemort's sight. Voldemort hadn't said anything about what they were doing, so there was no way of knowing. But that wasn't the most important thing on his mind. The thing that terrified Harry the most was the way that the Dementors, the most terrifying creatures Harry had ever known, apparently joined Voldemort, in front of his very eyes.

As the pain in his scar started to lessen to a dull throbbing, Harry sat up on his bed, and started to think about what he should do about the pain. He decided to write to Professor Dumbledore, his headmaster at Hogwarts, and the one person Voldemort truly feared. Dumbledore had told him to write as soon as his scar hurt, and Harry had promised to do so. Remembering his promise, Harry got gingerly off his bed, and walked over to his trunk in the corner of the room.

Harry retrieved a quill and parchment from his trunk of school supplies, and laid it out on the desk next to his window. Using the inkpot on the desk, he inked the quill, and started to scratch the quill over the parchment. It took a while to write the letter, partly because the scar was still hurting, but mainly because Harry had no idea how to write this kind of letter. To be honest, he was hoping he might never have to. After a while, Harry finished the letter, and read it back to himself silently.

_Professor Dumbledore,  
    You told me to write to you at once if my scar hurt. It just woke   
me up in the night, so I thought I should write to you quickly. The pain   
wasn't as bad as it was during the Triwizard Tournament, but it was very   
painful.   
    I was asleep and dreaming again, and I saw Voldemort, Wormtail and   
Lucius Malfoy. They used a portkey to travel to a huge castle. There were   
Dementors at the door, so I think it might have been Azkaban. The Dementors  
let Voldemort in, and they seemed to be working with him. Voldemort sent   
Wormtail and Malfoy to different parts of the castle, and then he went up   
some stairs into a tower.  
    He went into a cell at the top of the tower, and spoke to a man he   
called Tobias. Then, Voldemort said something about the 'Legacy of   
Slytherin'. Do you have any idea what that could mean? After he said   
that, there was screaming from somewhere else, and the pain in my scar   
woke me up.  
    I hope this letter reaches you quickly and safely, and I will write to   
you again if my scar continues to hurt. Please tell Snuffles about what has   
happened, and give him my regards.  
    Harry.
_

Harry blew gently on the parchment to dry the ink, and then rolled it up carefully, wrapping some string around it. The parchment seemed very light and delicate in Harry's hand, and he carried it gingerly over to the perch where his snowy white owl Hedwig was sleeping. The bird was so peaceful and still, Harry hesitated to wake her, but this letter could not wait. He gently nudged Hedwig, who slowly awoke, with a slightly disgruntled look on her face.

"I'm sorry, girl... I didn't want to have to wake you..." Harry whispered softly, trying to keep his voice low enough that the Dursleys wouldn't hear him. Reaching over to the drawer in his desk, Harry drew out an Owl Treat, and gave it to Hedwig as a peace offering. As Hedwig chewed the treat, she seemed to soften to Harry, who gently stroked her wing. 

"I wouldn't wake you up if it wasn't important, Hedwig... I need you to take this letter to Professor Dumbledore. Will you do that for me?" Harry asked, still talking in little more than a whisper. Hedwig still looked quite unhappy at being awoken, but after Harry stoked her wing for a few moments, she stretched her leg out to take the letter. 

"Thank you, Hedwig. What would I do without you?" Harry said, as he tied the letter around her leg. He stroked Hedwig's wing one more time, and then watched as she flew out of the window. Harry sat by the window for some time, watching after Hedwig long after she was just a dot on the horizon. Eventually, he got up, walked over to his bed, and lay down to try and get some sleep. It was still dark outside, and Harry was extremely tired. But it was still a very long while before he fell asleep.

* * * * *

Harry was abruptly awoken again a few hours later, not by his scar, but by a loud bellowing coming from downstairs. 

"HARRY! Get down here, boy, if you expect to be given any food!" Vernon Dursley yelled, obviously not particularly interested in whether Harry got up or not. Vernon Dursley, Harry's uncle, had never liked his nephew, who had been left with them when Harry's parents had been killed. Most importantly, Vernon hated the fact that Harry was learning to become a wizard, which is something that he had always tried to discourage, as forcibly as possible.

Harry ran down the stairs, and into the kitchen, where his Aunt Petunia and cousin Dudley were just finishing their breakfast. Although the Dursleys gave him very little food, it was better than nothing, and after the events of last night, he was very hungry indeed. However, when he got to the kitchen table, Harry found very little food for him. There was only one piece of toast, which appeared to be burnt, and a very small piece of grapefruit. 

There was a reason why there was so little food in the house. Dudley, the apple of his parents' eye, was on a diet. This wasn't because he was concerned about his weight, appearance or even his health. It was because his school, the Smeltings Academy for Young Gentlemen, had told his parents he would be expelled if he did not lose enough weight to fit into a standard-size school uniform. Last year, Dudley needed to have a uniform specially made, at great expense to his parents and no little embarrassment to the school.

This meant that Dudley had to go on a diet. Unfortunately, this made an already-violent Dudley irritable, which was a certain way to make sure that Harry had as little fun as possible. Dudley had taken to inviting friends around to have Harry-hunting sessions, a practice that his parents had chosen not to discourage. But even more annoying was the way that Aunt Petunia insisted on giving Dudley a noticeably larger share of any food, in an attempt to keep him happy.

As Harry sat down and started scraping the burnt parts away from the toast, Dudley took the opportunity to walk past and 'bump into' him, making him drop the toast on the floor. There was not even any pretence at an apology, and Harry knew better than to ask for one. Aunt Petunia noticed the incident, and took the opportunity to glare at Harry disapprovingly, before she walked out of the room, looking for some unfortunate kitchen utensils to take her frustrations out on. 

Harry picked the toast up from the floor and threw it into the bin, and then turned his attention to the small grapefruit slice. It was perhaps one-sixth of the fruit, and looked suspiciously as if Dudley had sliced a little extra from the side after he had finished his piece. As he sat and ate the little fruit, Harry realised that he would have to do something about getting food from somewhere else soon. He had stocked up on Bertie Botts' Every-Flavour Beans and Chocolate Frogs before leaving Hogwarts, but his secret supply of sweets was beginning to run out.

Normally, Harry wouldn't have any sweets in the house, because Dudley would take them the instant he found them. However, last year, Dudley had tasted a Ton-Tongue Toffee, as manufactured by Fred and George Weasley, two of Harry's friends from school. The experience of having a four-foot long tongue had soured Dudley toward any kind of sweet that Harry may have... Finishing the grapefruit, Harry decided that he would have to finish off the Chocolate Frogs. His birthday was still over a week away, and with Hedwig gone, he had no way to ask his friends to help.

After finishing the little piece of fruit, Harry got up, planning to go back upstairs to his room. He had taken to spending a great deal of time in his room, as it was the only reasonably safe place in the house to go. Not that the Dursleys respected his privacy, but they would never venture inside Harry's room, which contained a number of magical items, like his broomstick, spell books and owl. The Dursleys were too afraid of these things to ever dare go into Harry's room.

Unfortunately, while Harry had been eating his meagre breakfast, Dudley had been entertaining guests. Piers Polkiss and Dennis Boyd, two of Dudley's friends, had come over to visit, and judging from the looks they were giving Harry, they intended to make life very unhappy for him. The look in their eyes uncomfortably reminded Harry of Crabbe and Goyle, the two large, unpleasant associates of his nemesis, Draco Malfoy. A cold shudder found it's way down Harry's back as he thought of how alike they were.

Dudley pushed Harry against the wall, with his two hulking allies flanking him. Wondering how painful the inevitable beating would be, Harry decided the easiest thing to do would be to resist as little as possible. Dudley delivered a quick blow to Harry's stomach, which made him double over in pain and drop to the floor, gasping for air. Dudley laughed at him, leading Piers and Dennis to do the same. As Harry fought to get his breath back, Dudley bent down on his knees to sneer at him.

"What's the matter, potty? Don't you know how to fight back? You can't fight back, can you, potty?" Dudley mocked him, and directed Dennis to kick Harry in the stomach. Harry started gasping for breath again, and Dudley looked up at his fellow bullies and resumed their laughter. So far, this was quite normal, although this was one of Dudley's more vicious beatings. It occurred to Harry that the beating seemed to coming more and more from Dudley, and less from the other two.

Suddenly, Harry decided that lying there and trying to weather the storm was not such a good idea, after all. Normally, it was possible to lie there, and take the punishment until Dudley got bored. But the presence of his friends, coupled with his diet-induced foul temper, had made Dudley more than usually vicious. Now, Dudley was the only one doing anything, as Piers and Dennis had backed off. Even they seemed surprised at how Dudley was acting, although they would never do anything to stop it.

Harry thought about what he could do to extricate himself from Dudley and his gang. For a moment, he thought of his wand, left in his room, where it was no use to him. Then he remembered that he was not allowed to use magic during the holidays, so he couldn't have used it anyway. Calling for the Dursleys would be utterly pointless, of course, and trying to threaten Dudley with magic would just lead to beatings, and probably a punishment from the Dursleys. This meant that there was only one thing he could do. Fight Dudley off. 

Despite Dudley's size, this was not as impossible as it seemed. Years of Quidditch and last year's Triwizard Tournament had made Harry less thin than he used to be, and he seemed to have grown even larger over recent weeks. Dudley, on the other hand, was fat, unfit, and unused to any of his victims fighting back. Deciding on a plan to get out of this, Harry got onto one knee on the ground, as if he was about to try and get up.

"Is little potty trying to get up?" Dudley sneered, looking more like Malfoy by the second. That helped Harry to go through with what he did next. He lunged at Dudley, knocking them both across the hallway. The sheer shock on Dudley's face had almost been worth the beating, but Harry knew Dudley could fight him off in short order, simply through his sheer weight advantage. Taking the opportunity to flee, Harry darted upstairs to his room, and locked the door behind him to avoid his cousin's wrath. 

As three sets of fists started to pound on the door, Harry went to the loose floorboard where he stored all his most secret possessions. His invisibility cloak was in here, covering up an almost-empty box of Chocolate Frogs and another box of Every-Flavour Beans. Harry took out one of the Chocolate Frogs, and munched on it quietly, wondering what he was going to do for food over the next week.

* * * * *

Later in the day, long after Dudley and his 'friends' had gone in search of new victims, the telephone rang. This was not particularly unusual, as Vernon Dursley was often called by his 'work associates' at Grunnings, the drill manufacturers where Vernon worked. As Uncle Vernon tried to deny Harry's existence to his work colleagues, Harry had been forbidden to answer the telephone, so he went back to the book he had been reading, _Quidditch through the Ages_. However, this was not one of Vernon's work colleagues, which was made clear when Harry heard the ear-trembling sound of Vernon shouting down the phone.

"I TOLD YOUR LOT NEVER TO USE THIS NUMBER AGAIN!"

Judging from Vernon's reaction, Harry realised that the phone call was not one of Vernon's work colleagues, but one of his own friends from Hogwarts. Only someone from the magical world would be able to draw such a vehement reaction from Vernon over the telephone. Vernon was terrified of his nephew's friends, and even more terrified if anyone were to find out about his connection to 'a bunch of freaks, weirdoes and idiots', as Vernon so flatteringly called them. In fact, Vernon would probably call them that and hang up the phone at any moment, if Harry didn't do something.

Suddenly, Harry knew exactly what he could do. He ran over to his trunk, and grabbed a letter he had received from his Godfather, Sirius Black. Harry's godfather had escaped from Azkaban, the wizard prison, nearly two years ago, where he was wrongfully imprisoned for the murder of Harry's parents. Harry, however, had not told his Aunt and Uncle of Sirius' innocence, and the Dursleys lived in fear of being too cruel to Harry, in case Sirius were to find out about it and decide to pay a visit to Harry's guardians.

Brandishing the letter, he ran down the stairs, desperate to get to the phone before Vernon hung the phone up. Careful to leave the name 'Sirius' visible at the bottom of the letter, Harry walked into the living room, and over to where Vernon Dursley was still bellowing down the phone.

"Uncle Vernon, why are you shouting? Is something wrong?" said Harry, in a sweet, innocent voice.

"Nothing to do with YOU, boy! This is MY home, and if I want to shout down the telephone, then I..." Vernon shouted at Harry, but then trailed off as his eyes wandered down to the letter in Harry's hand. At the sight of the signature at the bottom, Vernon's eyes bulged wide, and a vein in his forehead, already visible from his shouting, began to throb. Harry noticed the look on Vernon's face, and stood there, enjoying his uncle's discomfort.

"Harry... It's some boy asking for you... Be quick..." Vernon muttered, barely audibly. He almost threw the phone at Harry, and stomped off into the kitchen, doubtless considering some unbelievably novel way of getting rid of Harry without incurring the wrath of his Godfather. Harry's attention, however, was with the telephone that he had just been given.

"Hello?" Harry said, wondering just who would be calling him.

"Harry! I thought your uncle had broken the phone! I thought you weren't meant to shout into them?" said the unmistakable voice of Harry's best friend, Ron Weasley.

Harry chuckled, remembering the last time Ron had tried to phone him, over two years ago. It had not been a pleasant experience, as Ron, coming from a wizard family, had no idea how to use a telephone. Ron had screamed down the phone at Vernon Dursley, leading him to respond in kind. His chuckles subsiding, Harry answered his friend. "No, you're not meant to. But sometimes Vernon forgets that... How is everything there?"

"Great! Listen, the aurors have been around all the wizard houses near here, putting charms and protective spells on them. Mad-eye Moody was here, and he said it was safe for us to invite you to stay now! Of course, as soon as he said that, Mum gave me a handful of Muggle money, and sent me down to the public fellytone to call you!" Ron babbled, excited at the prospect of having his friend back so soon.

"I can come over there!? When!? How!?" Harry was frantic. If he knew how to Apparate, then he would have been at the Weasleys' the minute Ron had told him, but being underage and unlicensed to Apparate meant he would have to be picked up.

"Dad says he can borrow a Ministry car and come to collect you on Saturday! Please say you can come then, Harry! Can you get the Muggles to agree?"

"The Muggles wouldn't dare disappoint the Godson of Sirius Black... How do you think I got the phone?" Harry replied, and was promptly answered by a loud cackle of laughter at the other end of the phone.

"Brilliant! That means that Fred and George won't have to break you out this time! Have you heard from Siri-Snuffles recently?"

"Not since Dumbledore sent him off after the third task. Dumbledore told me not to worry, but it's hard not to." Suddenly, Harry's voice got softer and more worried, as it often did when talking about his wanted Godfather.

"I know. Really, everything will be fine. I hate to say this, but I think I have to go now, I don't know how long that Muggle money will last..." Ron obviously hated having to leave Harry like this, but really didn't know how long he would be able to talk.

"How much did you put in?" Harry asked, wondering how much longer he would be able to talk.

"I don't know. One of those funny shaped ones, like the one you gave me back in the first year?" Ron had no experience of Muggle money, and had to ask Harry for his opinion.

"A 50p. The phone will probably disconnect soon." Harry was obviously disappointed, but consoled himself with knowing he would see Ron soon.

"Yeah, I thought so. I'll tell Dad to pick you up at 3 on Saturday afternoon. Is that alright?" Ron tried to inject cheerfulness into his voice, knowing how much Harry hated being at the Dursleys' any longer than necessary.

"That's fine. I'll see you then, Ron!"

"See you then, Harry. Try not to let the Muggles get you down before then!" Ron hung up the phone, leaving Harry grinning happily at the thought of going back to the Burrow. Wondering how long he had to wait, Harry looked at the calendar on the wall, and saw that it was a Thursday. Only two days to wait! Without a word to his uncle, Harry ran upstairs, burst into his bedroom, and started almost throwing his belongings back into his trunk. 

He still had two days to wait until the Weasleys came to collect him, but he couldn't wait to get away from the Dursleys. The last three weeks had dragged by miserably, and the only thing that had helped was the hope that he might be able to visit the Burrow before going back to Hogwarts. Now that the end was in sight, Harry couldn't wait to get ready. Even the thought of last night's nightmare couldn't depress Harry as he thought of how fun the next few weeks could be...

* * *

Disclaimer: Yeah, right. If anything here belonged to me, do you think you'd be reading this for _free?_ I think not...

* * *

Well, I did promise Harry would do something this chapter. I'd call knocking Dudley across the room something worthwhile, wouldn't you? That's it for Chapter 2, and Harry will be off to the Burrow in Chapter 3.

Now I get to say a big thank you to my reviewers! So, THANK YOU to Archaic Raven and SleepyAngel, who reviewed this within about 5 minutes of my posting it! Thanks for all your praise, and Raven, I will read 'The Heathen' as soon as I get a chance.

That's all folks! At least for now... Please hit that button down there and leave a review...


	3. Waiting

**_

Harry Potter and the Legacy of Slytherin

_**

**_Chapter 3_**

**_Waiting..._**

Harry woke up at seven on Saturday morning, just as he usually did every morning. Normally, Harry woke up full of dread at the prospect of another day spent at the Dursley's, but today was different. Although Harry still had to get through the rest of the day, it wouldn't be long before he escaped the Dursleys for another ten months. To Harry, there was no happier thought than the idea of leaving the Dursleys, and going back to the Burrow, where Ron's family, the Weasleys, treated him more kindly than anyone else he had ever known.

As Harry had already told Ron, getting the Dursleys to agree to let him go was easy. The Dursleys disliked having him there almost as much as he disliked being there, so they did not take a lot of persuading. In fact, it hadn't even been necessary to remind his Uncle of his Godfather this time, as Vernon was only too keen to get Harry away from his family. Vernon had been more irritable than usual lately, and Dudley's foul temper toward Harry may have helped persuade him to get Harry out of the house.

Not that Harry minded being sent away to keep Dudley happy. The only problem, in Harry's mind, was waiting another eight hours until Ron and his father Mr Weasley arrived. As he sat in his bed rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Harry just wished that three o'clock would come faster. Unfortunately, the clock didn't seem to be listening to Harry, and continued to tick at it's own infuriatingly slow pace.

Harry kicked off his sheets, and started to get dressed, hoping that the Dursleys wouldn't be any more cruel than normal before the Weasleys came. There wasn't much chance of that, as the Dursleys would want to make Harry's last hours here as unpleasant as possible. Normally, the Dursleys would go out with Dudley on a Saturday, but this week they were staying here to keep an eye on Harry and the Weasleys. 

The Dursleys had a history of disliking the Weasleys, ever since Ron, Fred and George broke Harry out of his room before his second year. The Weasleys also disliked the Dursleys, because of the way they continually mistreated Harry. Getting the two families together, even for a few minutes, was not going to be an enjoyable experience. If Harry had any choice in the matter, he would leave the Dursleys in a heartbeat, and never come back. The Weasleys would happily take him in, and he had enough gold in Gringotts, the wizard bank, to pay for a room somewhere.

But for some strange reason, Professor Dumbledore would never allow Harry to do this. At the end of the last term, Mrs Weasley had asked to take Harry straight home with them, but Professor Dumbledore would not allow it, and had insisted on having extra protective charms placed on the Burrow before Harry could come over at all. It made Harry cringe to think of all the time and effort it must have taken to make the Burrow safe, but he consoled himself with knowing that the Weasleys were probably now one of the most protected families in the country.

After the ton-tongue toffee incident last summer, Harry no longer had to make food for the Dursleys, as they wouldn't trust a thing Harry, or any other wizard, had touched. Not that they were especially trusting before, but such a shocking incident would change even the most made-up mind. As a result of this, Harry was never allowed to cook anymore, but was made to do any work around the house that needed doing. 4 Privet Drive was, by now, one of the most immaculate houses in the area, and would remain so at least until after Harry left.

After pulling on an over-sized top that Dudley outgrew two years ago, Harry walked out of the room and went downstairs, where the lights were still off. None of the Dursleys would be up yet, which allowed Harry to go downstairs and get some food. Although Harry still had some supplies of sweets in his room, no-one could live on sweets alone, especially not a growing boy. Harry went through the cupboards and fridge, and found some bread, cold sausages and some jam. He made a sandwich, and wolfed it down with the sausages.

Careful to clean everything that he had used, Harry tried to make it look as if he hadn't eaten yet. The Dursleys would never dare to starve him, especially not when they knew about Sirius Black, but they fed Harry as little as possible, and they would not take kindly to Harry's early morning breakfast. With everything cleared away, and no Dursleys in sight, Harry decided to go back upstairs to his room. The quiet, peaceful room was the only place in the house where Harry felt he wasn't out of place. Harry returned to his room, to try and wait patiently for the Weasleys to arrive.

* * * * *

Harry spent most of the rest of the morning trying not to think about how slowly time was passing, and flicking idly through his copy of Quidditch Through the Ages. Before the end of the afternoon, Harry was sure he would be able to referee a Quidditch match just as well as Madam Hooch, the usual referee at all Hogwarts matches. It was surprising just how many different ways there were to foul in Quidditch, although Harry was sure that foul number 212 was the same as foul number 564.

Finally giving up on finding a difference between 'Squidding' and 'Thrumping', Harry threw the book back in his trunk and started to check that everything had been packed, for the seventh time that day. Harry's invisibility cloak was buried deep in the bottom of the trunk, and all his school books, potions ingredients and other equipment was piled on top. Normally, this trunk would be far too heavy for Harry to lift, but it had been enchanted with a charm to make it lighter.

Next to the trunk sat Hedwig's perch and cage, and leaning up against the wall was Harry's broomstick, the Firebolt that his Godfather had given him nearly two years ago. That was all the possessions Harry had, and none of these had been bought for him by the Dursleys. Most of the things Harry owned had been given to him by his friends during his time at Hogwarts, and the only thing he had from his parents was the invisibility cloak, which had belonged to his father.

Hedwig still had not returned from delivering Harry's letter to Professor Dumbledore, so the cage was empty, and Harry wondered what was taking so long. Usually, Hedwig returned within a day, unless he was on a long journey to Sirius. Professor Dumbledore must be far away, trying to find allies against Voldemort. Although the Ministry refused to believe that Voldemort had returned, the professors at Hogwarts knew the truth, and had been spending most of the summer trying to convince the rest of the wizarding world.

This meant that Professor Dumbledore had to spend a great deal of time travelling, seeking those who might be persuaded to fight alongside him against Voldemort. This meant meeting with people like Vampires and Werewolves, who, by reputation, would be expected to fight on the Dark Side. Harry knew that Dumbledore had nothing to fear from the werewolves, and expected his old teacher, Remus Lupin, to accompany him and keep him safe. But the Vampires, like many others Dumbledore would be meeting, were as much a mystery to him as the intracies of potion-making would be to a Muggle. That made it hard to trust them, however much they were needed.

Harry worried about Dumbledore's safety, just as he worried about Hagrid, the half-giant groundskeeper at Hogwarts. He had been sent to the Giants in the North of Europe, to try and encourage them to join the fight against Voldemort. Hagrid's giant blood would give him some protection against the giants, who were known for their mistrust of other races, but Harry still wished someone else could have been sent. It was hard knowing that the people you know and respect have to put themselves in danger, especially when you can't do anything to help them.

Finally, Harry slammed his trunk shut, and went back to his bed. The best way to pass the time would be to sleep, he decided. As he wrapped himself in his thin, worn blanket and tried to sleep, Harry tried to remember that tonight, he would be sleeping in a comfortable, warm bed, in a house full of people who cared about him. Before long, Harry was asleep, with a rare smile on his face.

* * * * *

Harry was eventually awoken by the sound of the clock in the hall downstairs chiming three o'clock, and he dragged his trunk down the stairs, hoping that the Weasleys would be there quickly. Vernon and Petunia were standing in the sitting room, warily eyeing the boarded-up fireplace. They had clearly not forgotten the last time the Weasleys had come to pick up Harry. They had tried to use floo powder to come here, and when they found the fireplace blocked, Mr Weasley had to use magic to break the fireplace open again. He repaired the damage afterwards, of course, but the Dursleys were not the type to forgive and forget.

Dudley, surprisingly, was not in the room. Harry decided it would be best not to ask where he was, and to be honest, Harry was just hoping that he would stay away until after the Weasleys had picked him up. After the Ton-Tongue Toffee incident last year, Harry hoped that Dudley could be kept away from his wizard friends, but Dudley's typical nosiness would probably mean he would put in an appearance soon.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang once, and Harry rushed to answer the door. Outside, Mr Weasley was standing on the doorstep, looking very inquisitively at the doorbell. Clearly, he still hadn't lost his fascination with Muggle objects. Behind him, Harry could be his best friend, Ron. His ginger hair and freckles were as distinctive as ever, but it appeared that he had gained even more height in the last few weeks, making him tower over Harry more than before.

"Harry! I'm glad you answered the door so quickly, I wasn't sure if I was meant to push this button. Ron said it was alright, but..." Mr Weasley rambled, still casting nervous glances at the doorbell.

Harry had to try to restrain a laugh as he replied. "It's alright Mr Weasley, that's what it's for! Are you going to come in, or should we just run for it?"

The look on Ron's face suggested that running would be preferrable, but unfortunately, Mr Weasley suggested it would be polite to greet the Dursleys. Once the Weasleys were inside the house, Harry became aware of a pair of beady eyes staring at them nervously from the large bedroom upstairs. Dudley may be terrified of magic, but his fear wasn't going to keep him from knowing everything that went on if he could help it.

Harry and the Weasleys went into the living room, where Vernon Dursley was alternating between glaring at Mr Weasley and casting furtive glances toward the fireplace. His wife, Petunia, was standing next to him, eyeing Ron with something close to contempt. Mr Weasley gamely tried to start a conversation with Vernon, while Ron and Harry looked at Petunia and silently decided they would much rather wait for Mr Weasley in the car outside.

Footsteps started to sound from the stairs, and before long Dudley appeared in the doorway, turning to one side so that he could fit inside the doorframe. For a while, Dudley just stood by the door, his beady little eyes swept over the room, looking for something. Once he had checked the whole of the room, his face brightened, and he started to walk toward Harry and Ron. Harry realised he was looking for Fred and George, Ron's older brothers. Their absence seemed to give Dudley more confidence.

"So, you're a wizard too, are you?" Dudley seemed to want to interrogate Ron about something.

"Yeah..." Ron clearly wasn't sure how to deal with the porcine presence in front of him, and the look on his face suggested that he wanted to stay away from him.

"I remember you from last year... You and your brothers... You gave me that sweet, didn't you?" Dudley asked, although he clearly already knew the answer.

"Actually, that was Fred. You remember, the bigger one you were so worried about?" Harry interjected, trying to deflect Dudley's attention away from Ron.

"Shut up, potty. I was talking to your friend here... Now, do you have anything to say about that day, freckles?" Dudley started to turn pink, probably with the unusual effort of sustaining a long conversation.

"Actually, yes I do. You looked good with a big tongue. And even better, it stopped you from talking." Ron replied. After years of living with his brothers, he was clearly not impressed with Dudley's attempt at intimidation. Harry, on the other hand, couldn't stop sniggering.

"Well... You really are as stupid as potty, aren't you? I give you a chance to say sorry to me for what you and your brothers did, and you just throw it back in my face..." Dudley's face had started to go from pink to a pale red, and his right eye seemed to bulge slightly with anger.

"I'd throw something else too, but I don't have anything handy. Besides, anything I threw would just bounce off a fat whale like you..." Ron still looked at Dudley as calm as could be, and Harry looked at his cousin, wondering what response that insult would get. He was very surprised when Dudley started to emit a deep, humourless laugh.

"Just remember, your brothers aren't here... And I know you can't do magic in the holidays... So maybe you should think about saying sorry for that..." Dudley smashed one fist into his other hand, trying to emphasise his point to the two boys. But before Harry and Ron could reply, a hand gripped Dudley's shoulder, and Dudley went visibly pale.

"Boys, why don't you go and put Harry's trunk in the car?" said Mr Weasley, while keeping his hand on Dudley's shoulder. "I'll follow you out in just a moment..." Harry and Ron took the opportunity to leave, with Harry mumbling a quiet goodbye to his relatives. His farewell was not acknowledged, but Harry was not surprised. Before long, a shrill scream emanated from the room, which sounded suspiciously like Petunia. Harry went to look into the room, but Ron called him, and he went to help his friend put the trunk in the car that was waiting outside.

* * * * *

Harry and Ron put Harry's trunk into the back of the car, which was a very old Vauxhall Nova, with a long scratch in the green paintwork and a dent in the bonnet. The car had obviously been used frequently by the ministry, and the constant use gave the car a well-weathered look. As Ron closed the boot of the car, Harry wondered idly if this car could fly, like Mr Weasley's old Ford Anglia, which Harry and Ron had 'borrowed' to get to Hogwarts in their second year.

Mr Weasley came from the house, and got into the front of the car, motioning Harry to sit on the seat behind him. Ron climbed in the other side of the car, and before long was engaging Harry in an in-depth conversation about Quidditch, in which Harry discovered the Chudley Cannons were in fourteenth place in the league, and the rules for Quidditch were soon to be changed to forbid the use of certain 'broomstick enhancements', which had caused some annoyance in the game. Harry also heard about Oliver Wood, his former Quidditch Captain, who had been promoted to the first team at Puddlemere United.

After a lengthy discussion about who might become the new Gryffindor Captain this year, Harry looked out of the car window, and saw that they were finally near the Burrow. Before long, the ramshackle, patchwork structure of the Burrow came into view, looking both unstable and homely, as it always did. As the car pulled up in front of the Burrow and Mr Weasley got out, Harry sat back and sighed happily. He was back in the wizarding world, and he was home at last.

* * *

Disclaimer: Alright, I admit it... I didn't make up any of these characters. They aren't mine, and they never will be. No matter how much I try... *sobs*

* * *

Okay, not the most exciting chapter, but things should pick up when we get to the burrow. The return of Gred and Forge should liven things up. I would like to apologise for how long this chapter took. (About three months!) With any luck, my next chapter will be a little quicker...

Here we go, time for me to thank a few more nice Reviewers. Thanks go to Luigi, The Jolly Dollar and lukias who reviewed since last time. And especially cyber-gal89, who seems to have been through most of what I've written... Just think, all you have to do to get mentioned here next time is hit that button down there and leave a review! It's not that hard, I promise... ;)


	4. Questions & Quidditch

**_

Harry Potter and the Legacy of Slytherin

_**

**_Chapter 4_**

**_Questions & Quidditch_**

As soon as Harry got out of the car, he was enveloped in one of the most massive hugs he had ever known. Harry wasn't used to being hugged, having had no real family for most of his life. In fact, he could think of only three people who had ever hugged him; his friend, Hermione Granger, his Godfather, Sirius Black, and the woman who was hugging him now, with enough vigour to leave Harry short of breath.

Eventually, Molly Weasley, Ron's mother, let Harry go, and advanced on her son, allowing Harry to reclaim his breath. At the door leading into the house, a torrent of red-haired children started to erupt onto the garden, wanting to greet their friend. At the front were Fred and George, who seemed to be just as boisterous as ever. Their identical, freckly faces wore their trademark wide grins, and their eyes, as ever, were glittering with mischief.

In the wake of the Weasley twins, two of the three older Weasley brothers were visible, their lankier frames distinguishable from the two strong beaters. They walked with more care and calm than their excited siblings, but they still made for Harry at a considerable pace. Bill was the most distinctive, with his long flame-coloured ponytail flapping in the wind, and his single golden earring reflecting the light from the afternoon sun. He walked just behind the twins, his long, powerful strides covering the ground of the front garden easily.

Percy walked beside Bill, almost in stride with him, but the two could not be more different. Percy's paler, gingery hair looked more like Ron's, and was cropped very short, giving him a severe look. This, added to his glasses and studious bearing, made him look more suited to life behind desk than in the outdoors. Despite all this, he kept pace with his older brother easily, without having to run to keep up. 

Looking behind Bill, Harry could see a young girl, almost hiding behind Bill's back. This was Ginny, the youngest of the Weasley children. Her hair was the same fiery red as Bill's, and her eyes twinkled with the same life as Fred's and George's did, although even at this distance, you could see a kinder, gentler side to the look on her face. She seemed to be deliberately keeping her brothers between her and Harry, and her shyness reminded Harry of the hospital wing at the end of the last term at Hogwarts, when she had been the only Weasley not by his bedside.

Normally, this memory would make Harry draw into himself, pulling back into a shell of misery and despair. But it is very hard to be unhappy when a crowd of your best friends are all around you. Before long, Fred, George and Ron were dragging Harry into the house, with two bemused Weasley parents following after, holding a trunk, broomstick and empty cage between them. As soon as they all entered the house, Harry and Ron took Harry's things to Ron's room, which was still an orange-hued shrine to the Chudley Cannons, Ron's favourite Quidditch team.

Ron helped Harry to unpack his things, but Ron seemed to be distracted, as if there was something on his mind. Harry had a fair idea what it was, but decided not to say anything. He had been hoping to come to the Burrow, the same as most summers, and have fun with the Weasleys, without having to talk about what had happened last summer. Finally, all Harry's things were packed away, but Ron made no move to leave the room yet. 

"So, what do you want to do first?" asked Ron, looking at Harry almost as if he was expecting him to disappear at any moment.

"I don't know... Just as long as it doesn't involve Potions homework or chores!" Harry laughed, trying not to notice the look on his friend's face.

Ron laughed, although it was a very thin, watery laugh. Then he asked another question. The one Harry had been dreading for some time.

"Harry... I have to ask... What happened that night? What happened when... when..." Ron faltered, not knowing how to phrase his question.

"...when Cedric died?" Harry completed for him. He couldn't look at Ron, so he looked away, out of the window. 

"Yeah." 

"Sit down. This could take a while," Harry started, almost tearfully, "and please don't let me stop..." Then Harry started to tell Ron everything that had happened that night. He told him about helping Cedric stop Krum, and about suggesting they take the TriWizard Cup together. He told him about seeing Cedric killed so carelessly. He told him about having his blood taken as part of Voldemort's return, and the duel the two of them fought.

But the worst part, as it always had been, was what came next. What came after the duel. Seeing the images of Cedric, and his parents. Hearing their voices. Afterwards, Harry couldn't even tell how it had happened, but he had moved from standing by the window, to hunched on the floor, with his head buried in his arms. For a long time, both Harry and Ron just sat there, neither of them sure what to say. Eventually, it was Ron who broke the silence.

"I can see why you didn't want to tell me about it..." Ron said, sounding like he was unsure of what he was saying.

"No... I'm glad I did. And I'm glad you asked." Harry replied, finally looking up at Ron. His eyes were red, and he had obviously been crying.

"I should have been there, you know... To help you." Ron looked almost guilty as he forced the words out.

"You couldn't have been. Just look what happened to Cedric. If that had been you-"

"Don't." Ron cut Harry off in mid-sentence, to save Harry from voicing what neither of them wanted to hear. Silence fell over them both again for a few moments, until Harry spoke again.

"I could do with something to take my mind off all this now..." Harry mumbled.

"Yeah... Me too. Quidditch?" Ron suggested, and Harry nodded his assent, glad of any diversion from the thoughts going through his head.

After composing themselves, Ron and Harry collected their broomsticks, found Fred, George and Bill, and went out to the paddock where a great deal of every summer was spent playing Quidditch, with trees all around to hide them from any Muggles who might be watching. Some of the trees had been charmed to grow into a shape similar to goalposts, and Bill owned an old, battered Quaffle, which was enough to play a simple, timed game of Quidditch.

Percy and Ginny decided not to play, but they both came down to the paddock to watch the game, which soon got quite competitive. Ron, Bill and Harry should have won easily against Fred and George, but the twins always seemed to know exactly what the other was doing, and this understanding made them hard to beat. Before long, all five players were involved in a game as fiercely contested as any of the Inter-house matches at Hogwarts, although in a much friendlier atmosphere.

The intense competition helped Harry to take his mind off the conversation he and Ron had been having a short while ago, and soon Harry was caught up in the thrill of flying, which he had missed immensely while he was at the Dursley's. Once one game was declared over, another started, and then another, until the sun was starting to set over the horizon, and Mrs Weasley finally called everyone inside for an extremely welcome meal. 

When Harry and the Weasleys got into the kitchen, they found a massive meal had been prepared for them, including a massive steak pie, large dishes of roast potatoes, peas, carrots, and a colossal fruit cake for dessert. Everybody enjoyed the meal immensely, especially those who had been playing Quidditch, but Ron seemed strangely subdued throughout the meal, and Harry wondered what could be on his friend's mind.

Once the meal was finished, everyone sat in the front room and listened to music on the Wizarding Wireless, even Percy. Fred and George told rowdy, unsubtle jokes, while Ron and Percy took turns to dance with Ginny to the music. At one point, Harry had a short dance with a very red-faced Ginny, who tripped over her feet at least twice, and ended the dance being picked up from the floor. Harry had so much fun, he almost managed to forget everything that was troubling him, and the Weasleys seemed to be doing everything they could to take his mind off it too.

Eventually, it became very late, and the children started to drift off to bed. Ginny and Percy went first, and then Ron started yawning, which Harry took as an unspoken sign that it was time for bed. After saying goodnight to Fred and George, they both went into Ron's room, dropping their broomsticks in the corner, and both started to get ready for bed. However, just when he and Harry were getting into their beds, Ron decided to give voice to what had been troubling him earlier.

"Harry..." Ron started, almost too quiet to hear.

"Yes?" Harry urged.

"What do you think will happen? With You-Know-Who? Do you think we'll be able to stop him?" The question seemed to hang in the air, weighing them both down.

At first, Harry couldn't reply. He'd been asking himself the same question every day ever since Cedric had died. It had become consuming, almost like an obsession. It was the first thing he thought about in the morning, and the last thing he thought about at night. Every time he'd pondered this question, his mind just span around in dizzying, confusing circles, until the sheer thought exhausted him. How could he know what to say? 

Then, Harry realised something. Something that Ron had said, probably without meaning to. Will _we_ be able to stop him. It was a simple word, but it was enough. It told Harry all he needed to know. In all the time he had thought about Voldemort's return, he had worried about his part in it. About the burden Voldemort's return placed on him. But Ron had just told him one thing; it may be his burden, but he would not have to bear it alone. And that made it easier to remember another piece of advice.

"What's coming will come, I suppose... And we'll meet it when it does. Just like always." Harry said, in a quiet voice. Ron just nodded in reply, and then said a simple goodnight before preparing to go to sleep. With the conversation over, Harry turned over and fell asleep, feeling better than he had done in a very long time. 

* * *

Disclaimer: At the time of writing, I own 2312 pens (Mostly broken), 476 boring brochures, 33 empty sweet wrappers, 5 sherbet lemons and 3 empty coke cans. However, I admit I don't own Harry Potter, so you can't even sue me for what little I have!

* * *

Well, this chapter took a lot longer than it should have, because of my real life interfering again... Must get that removed somehow... This chapter was originally longer, but a lot of it has been moved to Chapter 5, so that's about half done already. Chapter 5 will see the return of Hedwig, Harry's birthday, and some interesting presents...

I have more reviews! :) So, thanks to seventeens stalker, Snidgey and bucky, and especially The Jolly Dollar, who hasn't quite given up on me... (At least, I hope not...) As usual, any reviews for this chapter will be very welcome...


	5. A Birthday at the Burrow

**_

Harry Potter and the Legacy of Slytherin

_**

**_Chapter 5_**

**_A Birthday at the Burrow_**

The days passed very quickly, with Harry and the others playing Quidditch by day, and Wizard Chess or Gobstones by night. Eventually, Harry, Ron and Bill became a better team, and began to beat the Weasley twins, until Ginny started to join the games. Although Ginny would tend to be shy and timid at the start of the game, she soon became as absorbed in the competition as the others. Every time they played, the matches were always close, and never boring.

Wizard Chess, on the other hand, was something Harry simply could not win in the Weasley household. Ron, of course, beat him regularly, and the other Weasleys had clearly picked up some of his skill. Try as he might, Harry simply could not beat any of them, even once. Bill tried to help him improve his game, but no matter how much Harry improved, it never seemed to be enough. Gobstones was a game he had better luck at, but it never had the depth of appeal that Wizard Chess or Quidditch had. Still, the summer days trickled by, happily and without incident.

Eventually it came to the 30th of July. Harry went to sleep that night excited at the thought of his first birthday away from the Dursleys, but he was awoken long before daybreak, by a tapping at the window. Once he had wiped the sleepiness from his eyes, he recognised the snowy-white shape doing the tapping. Hedwig! Hedwig was back, and through the window Harry could see a letter tied to her leg. Harry looked over at Ron, who was still sleeping, and then took great care to open the window gently, so as not to wake him.

As soon as Hedwig came in, he perched on Harry's shoulder, and gave his ear an affectionate nibble. After some kind words from Harry, and a treat from his trunk, Hedwig climbed onto her perch, and allowed Harry to take the letter, before closing her eyes for a well-deserved rest. Harry stroked the beautiful bird gently, and then turned his attention to the letter, which was very long, and gave very little good news.

    _Harry,  
    First of all, please make sure that you do not read this in front   
of the Weasleys. I am sure you are there by now, so convey my regards to   
Molly and Arthur.  
    Thank you for your letter, which I received this morning. As you   
know, I have been away since last term, trying to gather support against   
Lord Voldemort, so your letter was the first time I heard of a problem.   
I returned to Hogwarts immediately, and made contact with the Ministry of   
Magic.  
    I am afraid to inform you that you were correct. Azkaban has   
fallen. A team of Ministry Hit Wizards has been to the scene, but they   
found little. The Dementors have left, along with most of the prisoners.   
The Ministry are planning to announce this as a revolt by the Dementors,   
and still refuse to acknowledge Voldemort's return.  
    This is of great concern, as some of Voldemort's most powerful   
allies have now rejoined him. As to the details you remember, the man   
named Tobias is most likely Tobias Lestrange, who I believe you will   
recognise as a Death Eater. However, I can shed no light on this 'Legacy  
of Slytherin' that was mentioned.  
    The screams you heard came from another cell, where a man named   
Eric Malicant was found. The Dementors had performed their Kiss, so he   
was in no position to give information. He had been in Azkaban since   
before Voldemort's downfall, and it is not clear why this was done to him.  
    I told your former professor, Remus Lupin, what you told me. He   
sends his regards, and his advice that you try not to worry about this.   
He also tells me his dog, Snuffles, is pining for you. Perhaps the   
opportunity will arise for them to see you in Hogsmeade after the 1st of   
September.  
    On a happier note, I believe this will reach you on your birthday,   
so many happy returns. I have enclosed two pieces of parchment, one of   
which is your equipment list for this coming year. The other was found   
in Professor Moody's quarters, and I believe belongs to you.   
    I look forward to seeing you in September, and I recommend that   
you not get up to any mischief this year. Take care, and please write  
to me if you feel the need.  
    Albus Dumbledore
_

After reading the letter, Harry immediately threw it aside and looked at the other pieces of parchment that Hedwig had been carrying. One of them, as the letter suggested, was his list of materials that he would need for next year. The other one, however, was the one that Harry was interested in. The parchment was old, and looked like any other piece of parchment, but Harry recognised it instantly as the Marauder's Map.

The Map had been given to him in his third year by Fred and George, who had stolen it from a drawer in Filch's desk. Since then, he had lost it twice, once to Remus Lupin, who had confiscated it, and once to Barty Crouch Jr, who had taken it while masquerading as Professor Moody. Both times now, the map had been returned to him. The map would show where everyone in Hogwarts was, and also showed how to access many of the castle's secret passages. This and the Invisibility Cloak were all Harry had of his father, who was famous for causing trouble during his time at Hogwarts.

Going back to the letter, Harry read and re-read it several times, but found little comfort from it. The news was forbidding, but at least there was some hope that Harry might see Sirius and Remus soon. He missed them both terribly, even more so now that Voldemort had returned and they were in such great danger. He had been hoping to hear from Sirius for his birthday, but the idea of seeing him in a few short weeks was even better. With that small comfort in mind, Harry turned over, and went back to sleep.

* * * * *

The next thing Harry knew was a loud call, which seemed to fill the room all around him. Opening his eyes to the harsh, unfamiliar light, Harry saw a collection of red-haired, freckled faces crowded around his bed, all of them showing enormous grins. As soon as the Weasleys realised his eyes were open, Harry found a large knitted jumper bundled over his head by the Weasley twins, before he was lifted out of bed and hoisted onto several shoulders.

While being carried on the shoulders of the Weasley family, Harry started to wake up a little more, and could hear everyone wishing him Happy Birthday in the midst of the general excited chattering that surrounded him. Harry could see all the Weasleys in the house were with him, including Mr and Mrs Weasley. The jumper that had been pulled onto him was another of Mrs Weasley's knitted jumpers, coloured green.

After coming downstairs, Harry was dropped into a chair at the head of the kitchen table, where Mrs Weasley had laid out breakfast, which was filled with everything Harry could imagine wanting to eat. As usual, Ron had already sat down, and was attacking the food with gusto. Before long, everyone was sitting at the table, eating happily, and talking about what was going to happen over the rest of the day. Before long, Harry was more excited about his birthday than he had ever been before.

Once everyone had finished breakfast, Mr Weasley and Percy had to leave and go to their jobs at the Ministry, but not before wishing Harry a happy birthday again. Once they were gone, it didn't take long for Fred, George and Ron to drag Harry into the front room, where a large pile of presents was stacked in one corner. The heap was bigger than Harry had ever seen, and was certainly larger than he was expecting. For a moment, he wondered if someone else had a birthday on the same day, but the others pushed Harry toward the pile, telling him to start opening the presents.

Harry picked up the package on top of the pile, and looked for a name written on the wrapping paper. Unsurprisingly, the first present was from Ron, as Harry could have guessed from the Chudley Cannon wrapping paper. Harry gleefully ripped off the wrapping paper, and found a box containing a set of Quidditch robes. The robes were in bright orange, with the Chudley Cannons' emblem on the front, and a large 'S' on the back, for the seeker. 

As soon as the box was open, Harry pulled the robes out of the box and tried them on, much to Ron's delight. The robes felt heavier than his usual Quidditch robes, and Harry got the impression it had some kind of charm on it to cushion the wearer from any sudden impact. The robes were very comfortable, and judging from the reaction on Ron's face, they suited him. But there was no time to check how they looked, because everyone was waiting for Harry to open another one of the parcels.

The next present was a very small box, which was wrapped in bright green wrapping paper. There was no name on the tiny box, but Harry looked up, and saw Ginny blushing a bright red, which suggested that it came from her. Harry smiled at her, which made her blush even more, and then pulled the wrapping off the box. Inside, Harry found a slim necklace, made from a silver coloured metal, with a large tooth fixed in the setting. Harry put the necklace on, and touched the tip of the tooth, surprised at how sharp it was.

"It's from me and Charlie... He got the tooth for it... It's from a Hungarian Horntail..." Ginny mumbled, with her face still lit up like a beacon.

"Well, I'll have to write a letter to Charlie to thank him. And thank you, Ginny." Harry replied, still fingering the tooth absently.

Ginny was spared from blushing even brighter by Fred and George, who started nudging Harry toward a large box, which was next to the pile of presents. The names Fred and George were clearly written on top of it, which was why Harry had been hesitant to open this box, fearing some kind of prank. Now, he nervously approached the box, and poked it timidly, half expecting it to explode in a spectacular display of Weasley ingenuity. After some laughter from the Weasleys, and an assurance from the twins that the box was not a trick, Harry opened the box.

Inside, he found a variety of different tricks and jokes, some of which he recognised, and most of which he did not. Mrs Weasley seemed to be looking at the twins with a queer glint in her eye, but she still seemed to be happy with the twins' present, and the twins were soon crowding around, showing Harry some of the more unusual items.

"You see that, Harry-"

"That's a Freezing Fruit Drop. And that's some-"

"Popping Parchment. Now-"

"There's probably some tricks in here even Filch hasn't got around to banning yet, Harry-"

"So we're relying on you-"

"To make use of these in the best way possible!"

Harry started laughing, and soon the entire family was laughing with him, even Mrs Weasley. Ron was eyeing the collection with a truly inspired look on his face, which gave Harry the impression that four years worth of pent-up frustration with Severus Snape, the potions master, and Argus Filch, the school caretaker, would soon be released. Harry couldn't help feeling that if Hermione were here, the look on her face would be more similar to the apprehensiveness on Mrs Weasley's face.

The next parcel wasn't wrapped, but a messy scrawl on the box indicated that it came from Hagrid. After opening the box, Harry found a selection of Hagrid's Rock Cakes, which felt almost as hard as the rocks they were named after. There was no note, but Harry didn't expect one; Hagrid was busy meeting the giants for Dumbledore, and he was surprised Hagrid had enough time to get him a present at all.

The next present Harry plucked from the pile felt like a book, so Harry looked for the name, expecting to find Hermione's tidy script. However, when he found the name, Harry discovered that it was Percy who had given him the book. Percy had left with Mr Weasley, so Harry didn't have a chance to thank him for the present, and proceeded to tear of the wrapping. As he expected, the paper covered a book, which was simply entitled 'Useful Spells', and was written by Alita Farrell.

As Percy wasn't there to thank, Harry moved on to the next present, which appeared to be the last. A fairly heavy parcel was at the bottom of the pile, and Harry knew before opening it that it would be another book. An envelope was spellotaped to the front of the package, with 'Love from Hermione' written on it in neat handwriting. The envelope contained a short letter for Harry, which he read out to everybody present.

    _Dear Harry,  
    I'm sorry I couldn't be there, but my parents didn't  
want me to leave again so soon into the holiday. Mrs  
Weasley has invited me to stay for a week or so before we go  
back to Hogwarts, so I will be joining you at the Burrow   
soon.  
    I hope you like your present, I think you might find  
it useful. Harry, please take care of yourself, and I will  
see you soon.  
  
Love,  
    Hermione  
  
PS. Tell Ron not to read over your shoulder.
_

Harry looked over his shoulder, and sure enough, Ron was looking slightly embarrassed, knowing he had been impatiently reading the letter over Harry's shoulder. All the other Weasleys were laughing, and Harry soon joined in with the laughter, but not before marvelling at how well Hermione knew Ron. After the laughter subsided, Harry wondered if Ron knew Hermione half as well. One look at his face suggested otherwise, but then his train of thought was interrupted by the Weasleys urging him to open the parcel.

After tearing the wrapping off the book, Harry saw that the book was a new copy of 'Curses & Hexes: How to Protect Yourself', by Algernon Robotham. Harry started to flick through the book, and saw counter-curses and protective charms to help defend against almost every curse he knew, and advice on how to resist certain curses. One subject that was notably missing was the three Unforgivable Curses, but Harry already knew all he needed to know about them.

Suddenly, the lights went out in the room, and Harry found himself lifted from the floor and back into the chair at the table. Mrs Weasley went into the kitchen, coming back with the hugest birthday cake Harry had ever seen. The Weasleys were all singing Happy Birthday to Harry, although Fred and George were singing a slightly different version. Harry couldn't make out the words, but Mrs Weasley's glare suggested that might be a good thing.

Eventually, the singing died down, and Harry just sat and stared at the cake. There were fifteen candles on top of the cake, and the candles were clearly magical ones, as the candles burnt almost like small fireworks on top of the cake, lighting up the whole room. Harry made to blow out the candles, but before he had a chance to, someone interrupted him.

"Make a wish, Harry..." Ginny blurted out, almost too quietly to hear. 

Harry nodded to her, and then silently made a wish before blowing out the candles. The Weasleys applauded Harry, and the lights were turned back on.

"And now... For the party!" cried Fred and George. Mrs Weasley started cutting the cake, and putting big, thick slices of it onto plates. Before long, the children were happily munching on slices of cake, and chattering, admiring Harry's presents.

Music from the Wizarding Wireless was playing, and before long, the music was used to play Musical Chairs. Harry was surprised at how different the Wizard version of the game was; the chairs were enchanted to run away, which meant the players had to catch a chair and sit on it before the music stopped. Harry found he was very good at this game, as his quick, Quidditch-born reflexes helped him to keep up with the chairs.

There were many games played that day, and after several hours, Mr Weasley and Percy came home, and then introduced Harry to another Weasley family tradition; the family game of Quidditch. Everyone, including Mr and Mrs Weasley, took part, which meant that the teams were large enough for Mr Weasley to enchant a ball to act like a snitch. Harry, Fred, George and Mr Weasley played on one side, with Bill, Ron, Ginny and Mrs Weasley playing on the other side, which left Percy to act as the referee. 

It didn't take long for Harry to catch the substitute snitch, so the teams were switched to allow Percy to play, and another game was started. The games were not very competitive, and only a passing thought was given to the rules, making it clear that fun was the only goal for each of the teams. This idea was made very clear when Fred and George brought one of their pranks onto the pitch, which resulted in both Percy and Ginny turning into doves as they were reaching for the snitch.

When the sun had finally come down, everyone came inside, and ate a supper prepared by Mrs Weasley, before everyone started playing more simple games again. More games followed, and when everyone started to get tired, more sedate games, like Gobstones. Eventually, everyone was too tired to carry on, and it was time for the party to end. After helping to clear the mess made by the party, Harry picked up his presents, and walked upstairs, with Ron not far behind him. 

Both boys walked into Ron's room, with very few words, and smiles on their faces. Between the two of them, they piled Harry's presents into his trunk, and then each of them flopped onto their beds. As soon as their heads hit the pillow, each of them fell asleep, still with a happy grin on their faces.

* * *

Disclaimer: Were you not listening last time? I don't own Harry Potter, so please don't try to sue me. It probably isn't worth your while anyway.

* * *

Now, wasn't that better? Now that things have started to happen, I'm enjoying this a bit more. How about you? Anyway, Hermione will be appearing in the next chapter, and we'll be off to Diagon Alley!

Now it's time to thank the reviewers once again... :) Thank you to Ariel_undersea, Chantelli and The Jolly Dollar, who all reviewed since last time... Virtual cookies and gold stars will be given to all those who review this chapter, so please review! XD


	6. Diagon Alley, and Draco Malfoy

**_

Harry Potter and the Legacy of Slytherin

_**

**_Chapter 6_**

**_Diagon Alley, and Draco Malfoy_**

Several weeks passed after Harry's birthday, and everything in the Weasley household settled down to a gentle routine. Harry wrote a letter to Charlie, thanking him for the present he and Ginny had given him. With Charlie being so far away, it took Hedwig nearly a week to make the trip. Harry also sent several letters to Hermione, which meant that Hedwig was seen flying to and from the Burrow almost as much as she was seen on her perch.

Just the same as before Harry's birthday, most days were spent playing Quidditch with Ron and the twins, sometimes with the other Weasley children joining in. Ron, far more than the others, played with a great deal of determination, as he was planning to try out for the vacant Keeper position on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. This meant that the games were extremely fast paced, which helped to take Harry's mind off what was going on in the wizarding world. 

Percy spent almost all of his time either at the Ministry of Magic or working in his room, even to the point where he missed meals, much to Mrs Weasley's dismay. Both he and Mr Weasley were extremely busy at the Ministry, and Harry believed that this wasn't entirely because of their jobs. He knew that Professor Dumbledore was gathering allies to help him fight Voldemort, and that the Weasleys were among the most trusted of those allies. Both Percy and Mr Weasley were probably trying to spread word of Voldemort's return at the Ministry, and gather support for Dumbledore.

Fred and George spent increasing amounts of time in their bedroom, which led to a variety of different coloured explosions emanating from the room. In one notable incident, a red-furred rabbit hopped into Ron's room and hid under Ron's bed. A moment later, Fred and George came running down the stairs, looking for it. It was some time before a very red-faced Ginny poked her head out from under the bed, asking if it was safe to come out.

Ginny, like Percy, seemed to be noticeable by her absence on many occasions, but Harry didn't notice this as anything particularly unusual. Ginny had always been shy around him, and she tended to spend as much time alone in her room as she did with the others. When she did come out of her room, Ginny was enjoyable to spend time with, even if she did have a habit of blushing occasionally, and Harry sometimes wondered why she spent so much time away from everyone else.

As the weeks trickled past, Harry began to get more and more excited about the start of the school year. He was looking forward to spending his nights in his four-poster bed in the dorm in Gryffindor Tower, and he was especially looking forward to playing Quidditch with the Gryffindor team again. Last year, the competition had been cancelled to make way for the TriWizard Tournament, and even though Harry had been busy with the three tasks, he had missed Quidditch matches greatly. 

As well as the Quidditch team, Harry also missed his other friends at Hogwarts. These friends included his friends from his dorm, Dean, Seamus and Neville, and his other classmates. Although Harry got on with them well, he never heard from any of them outside of school, and sometimes, Harry wished he heard from them more. Much as he valued his friendship with Ron and Hermione, it would be nice to hear from his other friends as well. Another thing Harry was looking forward to was seeing Hermione again, although he expected to see her before he returned to Hogwarts.

One night, Harry was playing Wizard Chess with Ron. Ginny and Bill were looking on, both silently rooting for Harry. Both knew exactly how it felt constantly losing to Ron, and felt only sympathy for the predicament Harry was now in. Just as Ron captured Harry's last remaining Rook, Hedwig returned from his latest delivery to Hermione, carrying a reply. Harry quickly untied the letter from Hedwig's leg, and Ron and Harry gathered around the letter to read it, all thoughts of the game forgotten.

    _Dear Ron and Harry,  
    How are you? I hope your summer work is all finished, and you   
two aren't wasting all your time playing Chess and Quidditch. After   
all, the OWLs are at the end of the year, and I don't think Harry   
will be excused this time, no matter what happens...  
    I'm coming to Diagon Alley on the 22nd, and Ron's mother has   
said I can stay at the Burrow after that, so I think she's planning   
to come and buy your school things on the same day. I'll see you   
both on the 22nd!   
    Love,  
    Hermione
_

Ron took his eyes off the letter long before Harry had finished reading, and ran into the kitchen, presumably to find Mrs Weasley. Harry was left in the room with Ginny and Bill, who were both looking at Harry inquisitively. Harry hurriedly explained the content of the letter to them both, which led Ginny to brighten with excitement, before rushing upstairs. Bill, on the other hand, only gave a knowing smile, and when Harry asked him to explain why, Bill just laughed and walked away.

* * * * *

When the 22nd of August came, the sun was shining, and everybody was up early in the morning, even Ron, who was famous for being difficult to awaken in the morning. It was the sort of bright, sunny day that made everyone want to get up and do something, so it was the perfect day to go into Diagon Alley. After a rushed breakfast, Mrs Weasley took the twins, Ron, Ginny and Harry into Muggle London, and from there into The Leaky Cauldron, which led them into Diagon Alley.

As soon as everyone was safely in Diagon Alley, Mrs Weasley gathered all the children around her, and handed out their equipment lists and some coins, so that they would be able to buy what they needed for school. Soon after that, the twins left to go around Diagon Alley with Lee Jordan, as they usually did, leaving the others to wait for Hermione. Another letter had been sent to Mrs Weasley to make the arrangements to meet, so Hermione was expected at any minute.

"Now, where's Hermione... Oh, look, there she is!" said Mrs Weasley, as she spotted Hermione's long, bushy brown hair flying through the crowd.

"Ron! Harry!" cried Hermione, as she ran toward the Weasleys, grabbing Harry and Ron into a hug as soon as she reached them. 

"Hi Hermione..." gasped Harry, as he tried to wriggle out of the hug, which was a little too tight for his liking.

"Yes, hello Hermione... Can we breathe now?" said Ron, after returning her hug with equal gusto. Hermione released them both, and glared at Ron, and for a moment Harry was afraid that another one of their famous arguments might be brewing.

"Just ignore him, dear, he'll come to his senses one day..." interrupted Mrs Weasley, before Hermione could make any response to Ron's remark. "Now, do you have everything you need, you two?"

Both Harry and Ron nodded eagerly, having prepared everything they needed already. Now that Hermione had arrived, they were keen to get away from Mrs Weasley and go around Diagon Alley on their own. 

"Alright then... I'll take Ginny around and get everything she needs, and I'll see all three of you later. You know where we're meeting?" asked Mrs Weasley. After another quick nod, she and Ginny left, leaving Harry, Ron and Hermione to their own devices.

They started by walking to Gringotts, the wizard bank, so that Harry could take some money out from his vault. Luckily, Ron and Hermione waited outside the bank to talk about what had happened over the summer, which saved Harry from the embarrassment of opening his vault in front of Ron. The vault was full of money which had been left to him by his parents, and Harry always felt uncomfortable about Ron seeing the money, knowing that Ron's family had so little money, but would be too proud to take any money from him, even if he offered it.

Once Harry had his money, the three of them went into Flourish & Blotts, the bookshop on Diagon Alley. As usual, there was a long list of books required for the new year's lessons, all of which would be available in this shop. As soon as they entered the shop, Ron and Harry went straight for the shelves that contained the books ordered for Hogwarts students, both keen to get the books they needed and get on with more interesting things.

However, Hermione, as usual, became distracted with the piles of books that were all over the shop. She often did this, her natural curiosity overcoming her, making her appear to forget her friends. After a couple of attempts to get her attention, Harry gave up, and resigned himself to a longer stay in the bookshop than he had intended. Ron was more persistent, but eventually he came over to the seat where Harry was sitting, and prepared for a wait.

Harry occupied his time flicking through the latest copy of _The Standard Book of Spells_ idly, occasionally looking up at Hermione to try and see how much longer she would be. But Ron seemed to have decided that if he had to stay in the shop because of Hermione, then he might as well have some fun at her expense. After catching Harry's attention, Ron picked a book off the shelves, and pretended to look at it in interest.

"Look at this, Hermione! An updated version of _Hogwarts: A History_! Does this mean you'll have to read it all over again?" asked Ron, with a wide grin on his face.

"I should think so... After all, if I don't read it, we all know you never will." replied Hermione, whose voice was calm, although her face was starting to go slightly red.

"Doesn't that tell you something? The fact that you're the only one in the entire school who's read the thing?" Ron retorted, and he was also starting to go slightly red, particularly at the tips of his ears, which was normal for him.

Ron and Hermione were already having one of their arguments, and Harry, as usual, was stuck in the middle, trying not to get involved. At some point, he was bound to be dragged into the argument, and this usually led to him being asked to take one side or the other. Harry decided to try and escape, and started edging toward the door. He would return to buy his books when the argument was over.

"Only that certain people ought to take their studies more seriously! Just because _Hogwarts: A History_ isn't part of any of the exams we'll be taking, doesn't mean we shouldn't read it!" Hermione's voice was getting gradually louder as she spoke, and a few of the other people in the shop had started to notice the argument.

"You didn't seem too impressed with it last year! What happened to it being _Hogwarts: A Revised History that Glosses over the Nastier Aspects of the School_? You weren't too happy when it didn't support your specious spew, were you?" Ron shouted, near to the top of his voice. Both he and Hermione had clearly forgotten that they were in a public place.

"S! P! E! W! It's S.P.E.W., Ron! And you aren't one to talk! Remember how you complained about Viktor all last year, then still asked for his autograph before we got on the Hogwarts Express?" A small crowd of people had now gathered around Ron and Hermione, many of whom were sniggering at them openly. With every sentence, the argument seemed to be reaching new heights, but both Ron and Hermione were too involved with their argument to notice any of this.

"Still defending your precious Vicky? But you would; you _are_ the one thing in the world he would miss most!" Ron screamed, his face now a very definite red. One quick glance at Hermione showed that her face was just as red, and she was preparing a response.

"Oh, for Goodness' sake..." muttered Harry, shaking his head as he walked out of the shop, trying not to be noticed. This argument would not be resolved any time soon.

* * * * *

When coming out of Flourish & Blotts, Harry was greeted by a particularly unwelcome sight. Draco Malfoy was walking toward the shop, with Crabbe and Goyle walking in step behind him. Each of the three wore a smug grin on their faces, and when Malfoy saw Harry, his grin widened even further, reminding Harry briefly of a tiger who has come in sight of his prey. It was not a pleasant sight, and Harry immediately regretted leaving Ron and Hermione in the shop, as he was now all alone.

"Scarhead, scarhead, scarhead... Don't tell me you've lost the rest of your little flock? Or have you finally acquired some taste in friends?" Malfoy sneered, with a glint of pure contempt in his eye.

"At least I have friends, Malfoy. You have a team of hired Quidditch players, and a pair of thugs without half a brain between them." Harry replied coolly, not wanting to seem worried about Malfoy. Crabbe cracked his knuckles menacingly, and glared, while Goyle just stared ahead. Harry wondered briefly if he was trying to make out what Ron and Hermione were arguing about in the bookshop.

"Potter, your mouth will get you into trouble one of these days... Just like your ridiculous sense of nobility. That's gotten you in trouble once before, hasn't it? And not just you..." 

That was too far. Harry lunged at Malfoy, only to be caught by Crabbe and Goyle before he could reach. As Harry was being held, Malfoy walked forward, and brought his face close to Harry's, so that their noses were almost touching.

"I'm going to enjoy this. I've been waiting four years to do this, Potter..." muttered Malfoy, in an unusually sharp, dangerous voice. Then he punched Harry, hard, in the face. Crabbe and Goyle dropped Harry at the same moment, which left Harry to drop to the floor, clutching his nose. Blood was starting to trickle from it, and tears were forming in the corner of Harry's eyes.

"I wish we were at the Shrieking Shack now... You remember? Your little mud-throwing trick in our third year?" Malfoy continued, before bowing down to the floor, where Harry was trying to stop the blood flowing out of his nose. "If we were there now, instead of next to this crowded street, I'd make _sure_ you learnt a little respect..."

Harry tried not to respond to Malfoy's threats, as he got slowly to his feet. Crabbe and Goyle were still standing by Malfoy, ready to pounce if Harry made any sudden moves. But Harry had no intention of trying anything else; without Ron and Hermione, Harry couldn't hope to stand up to the three of them. 

"Nothing to say? Has that knocked a little humility into you? I can't believe it's that easy to beat things into your scarred head. I'll just keep plugging away until I'm satisfied, shall I?" Malfoy sneered, preparing to punch Harry again. Fortunately, Malfoy was distracted by the noise of someone coming through the door behind them.

"Hermione, you can't be-" Ron was yelling, as he stomped out of Flourish & Blotts, but he stopped short when he saw who was in front of Harry. Hermione was following him, and as soon as she noticed Malfoy's presence, she looked at Harry, and saw the blood coming from his nose. Hermione quickly grabbed Ron's arm, to prevent him from going for Malfoy, and the two of them stood behind Harry supportively. For a moment, both groups eyed each other warily, before Malfoy started talking again.

"Ah... The Mudblood, and the Weasel... Potter's pathetic posse, together again. A shame you two turned up. I was just having a very interesting discussion with scarhead about the company he keeps. I warned him about that a long time ago, but he still doesn't seem to have gotten the message." Malfoy said, giving both Ron and Hermione derisory looks as he spoke. But this time neither they, nor Harry, would rise to the bait.

"Nothing to say?" Malfoy continued. "Or maybe you've been thinking the same thing? Maybe you've decided being near Potter is too much of a risk? You could be right - he isn't the safest person to stand next to, is he? But then, a Mudblood and a Muggle-lover aren't much better..." This time, Hermione had to bodily hold Ron back from Malfoy, rather than just clutching an arm. The concern in her eyes was evident. Malfoy had never been this bold with his insults before, and something about that worried her.

"What's the matter, Mudblood? Afraid you'll run out of redheaded friends? Don't worry, there's plenty of spares in the family... At least, for the moment," Malfoy sniped, trying to get a response out of Ron. Luckily, Hermione was still holding Ron back, and the pain in Harry's nose helped him to keep his anger in check. 

"No guts, Potter? Did the Dark Lord take those too?" Malfoy said, making one last attempt to make Harry attack him.

"Why don't you go ask your father? He was there. One day, I'll prove it, and he'll go to Azkaban. And then we'll see how you like that," Harry replied, his voice little more than an angry whisper. For a moment, Malfoy just stared at Harry. Then he started laughing, a cold, humourless laugh that convinced nobody.

"Just remember, Potter... When you come to the end a Mudblood-lover like you deserves... Remember that once, _I_ offered you my hand in friendship. And _you_ turned it away," With those words, Draco Malfoy cocked his head, and stalked past Harry, shoving Hermione out of the way as he did so. Before Ron could react, Malfoy was inside Flourish & Blotts, with Crabbe and Goyle following after him. All three friends were silent for what seemed like a long time, until Ron broke the silence.

"Typical Malfoy. Famous for blond, over gelled hair and overly dramatic exits." joked Ron, trying to lighten the mood. Hermione laughed with him, and Harry forced a smile, but Harry's eyes suggested that he was far more worried about Malfoy's comments than he would admit. Something in his voice told Harry that, for all Malfoy's boasts, he knew something more than he was letting on...

* * *

Disclaimer: Oh, how much I wish I owned Harry Potter... If I did, then I wouldn't have to keep coming up with a new disclaimer every chapter...

* * *

Right, Diagon Alley is done, we've finally seen Hermione... I'm about ready to do something important to the plot now! Remember Voldemort? Ol' Snake Eyes will be back next chapter. And there may be a death next chapter, too - I haven't decided yet. I hope to get Chapter 7 out in the next 2 weeks, but you know how reliable my predictions are...

Well, I got a few reviews last time, so the virtual cookies and gold stars I promised go to DragonShimmer, Tupac, Tabitha B. Potter and ~Aura~. And DragonShimmer, I hope I got this out quick enough for you. ;) If you want to see your name in these rather snazzy pixels next time, then press the button in the bottom left corner of your screen, and follow the on-screen instructions...


	7. Ponderings on Platform 9¾

**_

Harry Potter and the Legacy of Slytherin

_**

**_Chapter 7_**

**_Ponderings on Platform 9 ¾_**

After Harry, Ron and Hermione had been around the rest of Diagon Alley, buying their supplies, they met up with Mrs Weasley, Ginny, Fred and George at Florean Fortesque's Ice Cream Parlour, as they had arranged. When Mrs Weasley heard about what had happened with Malfoy, she swelled like a balloon, and turned a brighter shade of red than Harry had ever seen her. She started to quiver with repressed rage, and Harry was uncomfortably reminded of a howler when it has been left unopened too long.

It took her quite a long time to calm down, after which she started fussing over Harry, inspecting his nose to make sure the bleeding had stopped, and asking questions about exactly what had happened. Answering the questions only seemed to make Mrs Weasley fume more, and when the questioning was over, she continued to mutter something that Harry was relieved he couldn't hear. If Malfoy showed his face again, Harry had a feeling Mrs Weasley would launch into a furious tirade that would put a volcano to shame.

Throughout the explanations to Mrs Weasley, both Ron and Hermione stayed by Harry's side, trying to both answer questions and calm Mrs Weasley at the same time. Fred and George were unusually quiet as they watched, and they had very determined looks on their faces, and Harry was reminded that the Weasley twins were as famous for their long memories as for their pranks. It would not be long before some kind of retribution found it's way to Draco Malfoy's feet.

But Ginny seemed to be more affected by what happened than any of the others. Whenever Harry caught a glimpse of Ginny, she seemed to be staring at Harry, with a sad look on her face, and as soon as she noticed Harry looking at her, she turned away, or sometimes moved altogether. Once, Harry thought he saw a tear in the corner of Ginny's eye, but she turned away too quickly for him to be sure.

Once Mrs Weasley was satisfied, everyone walked to The Leaky Cauldron, and went back into Muggle London. Mr Weasley had arranged for a portkey to take them home, but it would be left somewhere away from the attention of Muggles. After a long trip on the Muggle Underground, Mrs Weasley took the children around the back streets, and eventually found a cardboard box, and told all the children to gather around it. Just as a nearby church clock chimed five o'clock, Harry felt the familiar jerk just behind the navel, and found himself standing in front of the Burrow.

When they got inside, Ginny ran upstairs to her room almost immediately, and after a quick look to Ron and Harry, Hermione ran after her. Mrs Weasley glanced in their direction, then decided to leave them alone, and carried the bags into the kitchen. Ron just shrugged and paid no attention, and the twins didn't even seem to notice, but Harry just stood there for a moment with a worried look on his face. He was worried about his encounter with Malfoy, but there was something else concerning him, deep in the back of his mind. 

Ron called from outside, breaking Harry out of his thoughts. Harry looked out into the garden, and saw Ron holding two broomsticks, and two Weasley-shaped dots heading for the horizon at great speed. He shook his head slowly, as if to clear it, and ran outside to join the others.

* * * * *

Just over a week later, it was time for Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Fred and George to go back to Hogwarts. As usual, the morning came far too early for the children, and each one of them came down the stairs looking half asleep, rubbing their eyes and yawning. Before long, all the children, Bill and Mrs Weasley were assembled around the table, eating breakfast. Percy and Mr Weasley had to be at work early, so they had left well before anyone else had woken up, and would most likely not return until after Mrs Weasley returned home.

Mrs Weasley cooked one of her huge breakfasts, and while the children ate sleepily, she started fussing around them, asking if everything was ready for their return to Hogwarts. She seemed particularly attentive to Fred and George, and Harry assumed she was taking extra care with them because they were entering their final year. He also wondered if she was paying extra attention to make up for the absence of Mr Weasley.

Harry started eating the small pile of sausages that Mrs Weasley had piled onto his plate, and looked at Fred and George, thinking about how they felt about going into their final year of Hogwarts. He knew they were still planning on starting their own Joke Shop, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, but what were they going to do while they saved up the money they needed to start? What did wizards do when they left Hogwarts? 

As people started waking up a little more, conversations started, pulling Harry away from his thoughts. Fred and George talked among themselves, leaving Ron, Ginny, Harry and Hermione to have a quiet discussion while Mrs Weasley and Bill cleared away the breakfast table. 

"So, are you ready for a new year at school?" asked Hermione, directing her question at Ginny, trying to draw her into the conversation.

"Yeah... I think so... I just hope I don't have Potions first thing every Monday, like I did last year." Ginny said, hesitantly.

"Snape picks on you too, then?" Harry joked, knowing perfectly well that Professor Snape held all the other Gryffindors in equal contempt. Ginny's cheeks tinged slightly, but she carried on speaking.

"Yeah, he hates us as much as any other year. He picks on Colin the most, making him test the antidotes and everything. Poor Colin..." 

"He tries to poison Harry as well! Maybe he and Trelawney should get together sometime and arrange his death properly!" said Ron, laughing. Harry forced a smile, but both Ginny and Hermione just gave Ron a sharp look.

"And I just couldn't figure out the essay he made us write over the summer - I'm still a roll short! 'A History of Restorative Potions'..." Ginny complained, trying to divert the conversation.

"Oh, I can help you with that! There's this really good book in the library I used last year, we can go up there one day and have a look at it..." Hermione said, delighted to be able to offer some help to her friend.

"'Mione!" Ron spluttered, through a mouthful of pumpkin juice. "We haven't even got on the train yet, and you're already talking about work! Can't you wait until we get there?" 

As soon as the words were committed to the air, Harry knew that another one of Ron and Hermione's tiffs was on the way. The relationship between his two best friends had always been prone to develop into arguments at short notice, but since he and Hermione had come to the Burrow, their quarrels had been happening more often than was normal. Glimpsing at Ginny, Harry saw she was trying unsuccessfully to hide a smile; clearly, she had noticed the change in them too. 

"I could... But then I'd have to do my own work there, so I'd be too busy to help you with yours at the last minute!" Hermione replied, a familiar flash in her eyes.

"I don't need your help! I can do my essays on my own!" shouted Ron, starting to turn his usual red at the tips of his ears.

"I'll remember that next time you've got another six inches to write for Professor Snape because you've spent all weekend talking about Quidditch!" Hermione shrilled, giving Harry an uncomfortable reminder of Professor McGonagall.

"I'd rather talk about Quidditch than-" Ron bellowed, before being cut off in mid-sentence.

"Alright now, that's enough, you two... Go on! Go get your trunks so we can get going!" Mrs Weasley broke in, trying hard to look impatient with them.

All the trunks had been packed the night before, and all the children now ran up the stairs to get them. The older Weasleys helped them to bring the trunks down, and then Mrs Weasley waved her wand over the trunks, and muttered a charm that Harry couldn't quite hear. Suddenly, the trunks were magically shrunken, which Harry assumed was to make them easier to carry. Now that the trunks were ready, it was time for everyone to leave.

Mr Weasley had been unable to get a Ministry car this time, and because of this, Mrs Weasley was forced to take everybody to the station by Floo Powder. A short walk from King's Cross Station, there was a wizard pub called the Orb and Sceptre, which she explained was where many Wizarding families arrived when they took their children to take the Hogwarts Express. Harry was excited to be going to another wizarding pub, but as Mrs Weasley started to pass the vase of Floo Powder around, he felt the usual discomfort about travelling by Floo.

Harry watched Ron take some Floo Powder and throw it into the fire, but didn't hear him say the name of the pub. He was too busy remembering his first experience with Floo Powder; in his second year, Harry misspoke when he was trying to go to Diagon Alley, and found himself in Knockturn Alley, which was a place most wizards tried to avoid if they could do so. He had almost had an unpleasant encounter with Lucius Malfoy that day, and since then he had approached travelling by Floo with some trepidation.

Mrs Weasley jerked Harry out of his thoughts by passing him the vase of Floo Powder, and suddenly Harry noticed both Ginny and Hermione were looking at him. Clearly, he had been too engrossed in his thoughts again. Since the events of the third Triwizard task, Harry had noticed himself becoming increasingly introspective. At the Dursley's house, no one had paid enough attention to him to notice, but the Weasleys had noticed his pondering almost as soon as he arrived. He smiled reassuringly at them, and took a handful of the powder from the vase.

"The Orb and Sceptre..." murmured Harry, still a little uneasy about using the Floo Network, and threw his handful of powder into the flames. The fire glowed a bright blue, and then he leapt into the fireplace, and felt a familiar jerk on his body. What seemed like an instant later, Harry stepped out of a completely different fireplace, and saw Ron's smiling face in front of him, telling him he had arrived safely.

After looking around for the first time, Harry decided the Orb and Sceptre reminded him very much of the Leaky Cauldron at the entrance to Diagon Alley. The pub was dark and crowded, but the people gathered around made the place seem comfortable, and it was made to feel even more homely by the warm glow generated by the fireplace he had just stepped out of. Harry decided he would have liked to stop for a Butterbeer here, but Mrs Weasley urged them through the crowded pub, and down the street toward the station.

King's Cross station was the same as Harry saw it every year - crowded, full of people pushing around and paying as little attention as possible to what was going on around them. It was lucky that everyone in the station had so little concern for everyone else; if any of them had been paying attention, then the entrance to Platform 9 ¾ might have been found a long time ago. As Harry loaded his trunk onto one of the luggage holders, he wondered how many years wizards had been coming to this station and going to Hogwarts, unnoticed by the Muggle community.

Ron and Harry went through the barrier first, and as soon as they got onto the platform, they noticed that everyone seemed to be a little less attentive than usual, a little more guarded. Normally, most people would keep glancing at the entrance to the platform, looking to see their friends as soon as they arrived. By now, someone as well known as Harry and Ron would have been greeted with a wave or a call, but nobody paid much attention to their entrance.

After a nudge from Ron, Harry moved his trolley away from the entrance to the platform, so that the others would be able to come through. As he watched Ginny and Hermione arrive onto the platform, he realised why people seemed so closed off. He had always heard about how people acted when Voldemort was in power, and had started to notice it from the moment Dumbledore had announced his return. 

This was one of the most unpleasant results of Voldemort's return, and one Harry felt very uncomfortable about. People were terrified of Voldemort and his supporters, to such an extent that they stopped reaching out to the people around them. If it continued like this, soon people would start to mistrust their friends, and draw away from the people around them. It was what turned the period of Voldemort's dominance into such a Reign of Terror; eventually, death, mistrust and suspicion would take away everyone you knew and cared about, leaving you alone. 

Finally, Fred and George came onto the platform, and Mrs Weasley gathered everyone around to say goodbye. Fred and George looked eager to get onto the train and find their friends, but they still waited to listen to what their mother had to say. Mrs Weasley started by talking to Fred and George in hushed tones, no doubt telling them to behave themselves, before they ran off to get on the train. Then, she came over to Ron, Harry and Hermione, and hugged each of them one by one.

"Are you sure you've got everything?" Mrs Weasley fussed, clutching Ron tightly.

"Yes, Mum!" Ron replied, as Mrs Weasley went on hug Hermione.

"We're fine, Mrs Weasley... And thank you for letting us stay..." said Hermione, with Harry nodding in agreement behind her.

"I wouldn't have it any other way, dear..." Mrs Weasley replied, in a very quiet voice. She seemed to want to say more, but the words just wouldn't come.

"Come on Mum! The train will be getting ready to leave soon!" muttered Ron, eager to get on the train.

"Yes, of course... You will take care of each other, won't you?" said Mrs Weasley, who almost seemed to have a tear in her eye as she said it.

"Of course we will, Mrs Weasley... We always do, don't we?" said Harry, getting a small laugh from everyone.

After the laughter, Mrs Weasley nodded, smiled and hugged all three of them again, before turning to say goodbye to Ginny, which took quite a few minutes. Suddenly, a whistle blew, and the doors on the train carriage opened. Everyone on the platform slowly disentangled themselves from their relatives and started to board the train, but Mrs Weasley was still saying goodbye to Ginny, so Harry, Ron and Hermione had to wait and watch people trickle onto the train. 

As Harry watched, he caught a glimpse of Draco Malfoy in the very last carriage. Malfoy was talking openly with Crabbe and Goyle, and there was nobody else in the carriage with them. For a moment, Harry considered getting a little closer, to find out what they could be talking about, but then Malfoy looked around, and spotted Harry. Once Malfoy noticed that Harry was looking at him, he just gave Harry a cold, chilling smile and looked away, making Harry shudder.

But it wasn't the smile that made Harry concerned, but something behind it. In Malfoy's eye, there was a tiny, almost unnoticeable gleam. It wasn't something Harry saw very often. It wasn't the cold contempt of Professor Snape's eyes, and it wasn't the seething hatred of Voldemort's. It was like Malfoy was looking past Harry, and seeing something else, something beneath his notice. Once again, Harry wondered what had brought Malfoy his newfound confidence; he was rarely this openly contemptuous, even toward him. 

Once, just before his second year, Harry had overheard Lucius Malfoy telling his son that it was not wise to 'appear less than fond of Harry Potter'. Malfoy would not be so flippant if his father was still worried about how the family looked to the wizarding world, and the fact that he was so unconcerned made Harry think. This new-found social confidence could indicate something much more worrying than the insults Harry had already been subjected to.

Before Voldemort had been defeated when Harry was a baby, Lucius Malfoy had always been a member of Voldemort's inner circle, although the Ministry had never been able to prove it. He had also been one of the first to arrive when the Death Eaters had assembled after Voldemort's restoration to his body. Clearly, Lucius Malfoy was one of Voldemort's most important and trusted followers. If Voldemort was planning anything, or if he was close to some kind of victory, then Lucius Malfoy would know about it.

The fact that the Malfoys were less worried about their appearance could mean that Voldemort was close to reclaiming his former power, or at least meant that the Malfoys were confident he would soon do so. Harry had spent a great deal of time over the last week worrying about what could have happened to change their attitudes so much. He tried to tell himself that the Malfoys were being over-confident as a result of the Dementors' revolt, but one thought kept coming to him; something was going to happen, and soon.

* * *

Disclaimer: Are you still reading these? Look, let me make this clear - I don't own Harry Potter, and I wouldn't dare make any money off it... So why don't you leave me alone to write this in peace?

* * *

Okay, to start with, I'm sorry that this chapter doesn't have the things I promised last time... This is only about half of the planned Chapter 7, but if I'd written it all, it would have taken twice as long, and would be a ridiculous size. So, this is Chapter 7, and Chapter 8 will have the return of Voldemort... Oh, and the Orb and Sceptre pub is, of course, a tribute to the pub at gryffindortower.net...

Well, I almost didn't have any reviewers to thank this time! Thanks to Pickles, my only reviewer for Chapter 6... Maybe I should bribe you all with my virtual cookies again?


	8. Murder on the Hogwarts Express

**_

Harry Potter and the Legacy of Slytherin

_**

**_Chapter 8_**

**_Murder on the Hogwarts Express_**

As soon as Mrs Weasley finished saying goodbye to Ginny, all four children ran to get onto the train, just as the guard blew his whistle to signal the train was ready to leave. The train pulled out of the station, leaving King's Cross station behind for another year. Ginny immediately left to find her friends, leaving Harry, Ron and Hermione to carry their trunks into a vacant compartment, and then make themselves comfortable for the rest of the ride.

The weather was very hot, so Hermione immediately sprawled across one side of the compartment with a book, leaving Harry and Ron to sit on the other side. Before long, Hermione had fallen asleep in the midday sun, while Harry and Ron were engrossed in their latest game of wizard chess. In the warm summer sunshine, nothing seemed capable of spoiling the relaxing ride to Hogwarts, and even Malfoy seemed to giving the three a wide berth, for which they were grateful.

Unfortunately, the serene, calm summer journey could not last for long, and just as the day was getting past its peak and the sun started to dip in the sky, the train ground to a sudden, noisy stop, jerking Hermione awake and scattering chessmen all over the compartment. As the train came to a final, juddering stop, Harry and Ron found themselves thrown to the floor, and soon found themselves pinned beneath a falling Hermione. In the total silence that followed in the next few moments, all three friends just looked at each other in shock, until Hermione climbed to her feet.

"We can't be there yet - it's barely afternoon, and we don't get to Hogsmeade until dusk..." said Hermione, opening one of the carriage windows and leaning outside, trying to see the front of the train to find out why they had stopped.

"Well, I hope we aren't stopping long... I'm hungry already..." muttered Ron.

Harry moved to the window next to Hermione and leaned out of it, hoping he might be able to see something Hermione might miss. He immediately realised that the train had stopped on a bridge Harry recognised from his second year, when he and Ron had been forced to follow the Hogwarts Express in a flying car. The bridge towered above the ground, and as Harry glanced downward briefly, the sheer height of the bridge made him feel slightly dizzy.

"Harry... Look!" gasped Hermione, pointing to the front of the train from the next window, and then moving so Ron could see. At first, Harry couldn't see what Hermione was talking about, but then he noticed a section of the bridge had fallen away, leaving a gap in the tracks. The train had stopped just before it, and seemed to be waiting for something to happen.

"Yeah... The bridge is damaged... We'll be here for hours!" complained Ron, flopping back down into his seat.

"Do I have to tell you two everything? The route of the Hogwarts Express is heavily warded to stop anything damaging the tracks or the train! The bridge couldn't possibly be damaged, unless..." started Hermione.

"Unless... someone got around the wards somehow!" continued Ron, not daring to voice what all three of them were thinking.

"Someone with powerful Dark Magic. A Death Eater, or maybe even Voldemort. We've got to get to the front of the train, and find out what's happening!" said Harry, jumping out of his seat and walking through the compartment door, without waiting for the others.

Harry was already at the door to the next carriage before Ron and Hermione had got out of the compartment, and they almost had to run to keep up with Harry's stride. Neither Ron nor Hermione had ever seen Harry so determined, or so focused on a task; he barely seemed to notice Ron and Hermione struggling to keep up with him. Eventually, Ron managed to catch up with Harry, and pulled back on his robes, trying unsuccessfully to slow him down. But Harry just kept walking, leaving a frustrated Ron in his wake.

"Umm... Harry? Why are we going to the front of the train? It's not like we can repair the bridge..." Ron asked, still having trouble keeping up.

"I know... But the driver will know what is happening, and when help will be here. He must have some way to contact Dumbledore..." Harry replied, not sounding entirely convinced.

"But they won't just let us barge into the driver's carriage and start asking questions, Harry! Students aren't allowed in there! Besides, we'll have to get past the Prefects' Compartments before we even get to the driver!" said Hermione, trying to make Harry see reason.

"We can't just sit quietly and wait for something to happen! We have to get to-" Harry said, before he broke off, dropping to the floor, screaming and clutching his scar. Immediately, Ron and Hermione dropped to his side, lifting his head up from the floor and trying to see what was wrong.

"Harry... What is it? What's happening?" Hermione asked, concern etched across her face.

"Voldemort... He..." Harry gasped out, before screaming again. He tried to speak again, but couldn't even form the words before he was cut off by fresh screaming. Both Ron and Hermione hovered around him, trying to help, but there was nothing they could do to help him. Soon, they were interrupted as people started to pour out of the nearby compartments; Harry's screams were starting to gather a crowd of people, eager to see what was happening. 

"Stop staring! Get back into your compartments!" shouted Hermione, her voice breaking, showing how concerned she was. But no-one in the crowd moved, and some of the older students even started asking questions. Before long, the entire crowd was pushing, arguing and shouting at each other. Some of the new first-year students even started crying, so confused they didn't know what else to do. Finally, Harry's screaming was the only thing that could be heard over the din, until Ron decided to stand up and get everyone's attention.

"SHUT UP!!!" Ron bellowed. The crowd immediately went quiet, so he continued, "Harry needs help, not a bunch of people standing around making a racket!"

"Well, what can we do?" asked one of the older students. Ron didn't recognise him, but was fairly sure he was in the 6th Year.

"Nothing! There isn't anything we can do... So you should just all go back to your compartments and keep out of the way." Ron chewed out. It was painful for him to say it, but it was true; no-one there would be able to help Harry.

"Why should we go back into the compartments?" asked another student, this time a younger girl.

"Look, something has knocked out the bridge ahead of us and stopped the train, and it had to be something with powerful Dark Magic! They could be on their way right now! Do you want to be standing in the corridor waiting for them? Get into your compartments, lock the doors, and keep your wands at the ready! GO!" shouted Ron, trying to persuade them to get out of the corridor.

With those words, most of the students left immediately, some running back to their compartments, some muttering darkly under their breath. But a few of them stood still, unable to stop gaping at Harry's painful fit. Ron and Hermione ignored them, too absorbed in trying to help Harry to tell them to leave again. Eventually, even those few left, realising there was nothing they could do. Finally Ginny was the only one left, fidgeting on the spot and wringing her hands helplessly.

"What's happening? What's wrong with Harry?" said Ginny, dropping to the floor next to Ron, trying to see for herself what was wrong with him. Ron didn't seem to hear her, but when she appeared by his side, he turned and looked at her as if she had grown a second nose.

"Ginny! Didn't you hear what I said? Get back into the compartment, get your wand ready, and lock the door!" Ron said, too concerned for Harry to notice how harshly he was treating her. 

"B-but..." stammered Ginny.

"NOW, GINNY!!!" Ron screamed. Seeing Harry fall helpless to the ground had frayed his nerves to breaking point; the idea of Ginny putting herself in danger was more than he could bear. He regretted his sharpness as soon as he saw Ginny's face fall, but she turned around and ran back into the compartment she came from before he had a chance to apologise. For a second, he considered going after her, but another piercing scream from Harry stopped him.

"We've got to shut him up, before someone else hears him!" hissed Ron, leaning close to Hermione so that she could hear him over Harry's screaming. Hermione nodded, and took out her wand.

"I'm sorry Harry... Silencio!" said Hermione, casting the Silencing Charm on Harry, ending Harry's screams, but not his pain; he was still clutching his scar, and the pain Hermione saw in his eyes was enough to bring tears to hers.

"Come on, we've got to hide him somewhere..." muttered Ron. His voice sounded tight and strained, showing how hard this was for him, too. 

But all the compartments in the train were now full of students, who had locked the doors and were standing ready to curse anyone who came in. Ron and Hermione tried to knock on the door of the nearest compartment, but no-one answered; either they were too afraid, or they had placed a Silencing Charm on the door. They tried some of the other doors, but none of them were any more responsive. Ron punched the last door in the carriage, letting his frustration show.

"Right... Let's put him into this broom closet... At least he'll be out of the way if anyone comes." Ron decided, grabbing hold of Harry's arms, and motioning for Hermione to pick up his legs.

Together, Ron and Hermione hauled Harry toward a broom closet, and gently placed him in. Harry was too paralysed with agony to even notice what they were doing, and continued to shake violently. Between them, they managed to lift Harry into the closet, and place him on the floor, where he started to rock back and forth, hand still clamped over his scar. But no sooner had Ron and Hermione finished putting Harry into the closet, than they heard the sounds of footsteps coming from the front of the train.

"Someone's coming!" hissed Hermione.

"Come on! In here!" replied Ron, pulling Hermione into the closet with him. With three people in the closet, it was very cramped, and Harry's agonised rocking just took up even more room, so the three were crushed very closely together. But both Ron and Hermione were too worried about the advancing footsteps to notice the cramped conditions, and they both crouched close to the door, peering through the crack between the door and doorframe to try and see what was happening.

As they looked, the footsteps advanced, coming closer and closer. Each time a step came, Ron could have sworn that it was only a few meters away from them, but it took several long minutes before a dark shape passed by the door. Ron and Hermione were close enough to feel each other shuddering, and they both knew, with an undeniable certainty, that Lord Voldemort had just walked by. A step or two behind him came another dark shape, followed by another, until eventually Ron counted six Death Eaters behind him.

Neither Ron nor Hermione dared to breathe until long after the dark forms had passed the door, sitting in absolute silence while they could feel their presence in the room outside. Even when the door to the next carriage opened and closed, signalling that the Death Eaters had moved on, they both remained quiet, listening to the footsteps getting gradually more distant. It took several minutes before the footsteps could no longer be heard, and even then, it took Hermione what seemed like a long time before she dared to break the silence.

"W-what do we do now?" stammered Hermione under her breath. Ron looked at her, and could see how terrified she was. Hermione's eyes were wide and fear-struck, she was gasping for breath, and her lower lip was quivering slightly. Ron swallowed hard, and tried unsuccessfully to hide the identical look on his own face.

"Come on... We've got to find out what happened up front. Now that Harry's scar is hurting, we know You-Know-Who's involved, and he's done something terrible. They've already been to the front of the train, so we have to find out what they did while they were there. And we need to get word to Dumbledore, if the driver hasn't already." Ron said, trying to inject some confidence into his voice.

"Ron... We can't leave him like this..." said Hermione, gazing sadly toward Harry again. He was still in pain, and there was just enough light to see his mouth still screaming, despite the effects of the Silencing Charm.

"Hermione... We have to know what's going on, and we have to tell them that Harry's scar is hurting. Harry was right; the driver will know what's happening, and he'll have some way to contact Dumbledore." Ron said, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. Painful as it was to leave Harry, there was nothing that they could do for him, and the fact that Harry's scar was hurting could be important. Hermione nodded, and turned toward the door, with her wand drawn.

Both Ron and Hermione jumped out of the closet together, looking up and down the corridor to make sure no-one was watching them. As soon as Ron realised that they really were alone in the carriage, he looked at Hermione, and saw the white, terrified look in her face. He gave her an encouraging smile, and walked purposefully toward the door into the next carriage, soon hearing the sound of Hermione's footsteps following him. 

Together, they walked through carriage after carriage, but no-one else seemed to be moving around. Clearly, other people had decided to stay in their compartments as well, including the Prefects. Although the seemingly-empty carriages were unnerving, both Ron and Hermione were relieved not to see any victims sprawled in any of the carriages. Finally, they reached the door to the driver's carriage, and Ron paused before opening it, and turned to look at Hermione, to see if she was ready. For a moment, they both simply looked at each other, taking courage from each other's presence, until she nodded to show she was ready, and turned her attention to the door.

Taking a deep breath, Ron pushed open the doorway to the driver's carriage gently, but once the door was open and he saw the sight inside, he let it all out in one long, slow exhale, horrified at what he was seeing. Next to the furnace, an elderly man was sprawled on the floor, eerily still. Ron assumed he was the driver, as he was wearing overalls, and a driver's cap had fallen on the floor nearby. When Ron looked at his face, it seemed frozen in a look of sheer terror. It was obvious that he had been the victim of the Killing Curse.

"Ron..." gasped Hermione, who had followed Ron into the room. She was looking in the corner of the room next to the door, where the lady who pushed the snack trolley was slumped against the wall, next to a stool. Ron had walked straight past her without even noticing, so shocked at seeing the driver dead. Her face wore an almost identical expression to the driver's, and she had clearly met the same fate as the driver.

With the only adults on the train in no condition to help, Ron looked around the driver's carriage, hoping against reason that he would find something of some help to them. Most of all, they needed some way to contact Professor Dumbledore, to tell him that Voldemort was on the train. At first Ron started to look around the furnace, hoping to find some kind of device that might be used as a signal, but all he saw were the dials and controls to operate the train, which were completely meaningless to him. As soon as he realised they would be no help, Ron turned away from them, intending to search the rest of the carriage.

As he turned around, his eyes fell on Hermione, who was still staring at the body of the old witch. She had not moved since she had first caught sight of her body, and her face had the most haunted look Ron had ever seen. Gently, Ron took hold of her shoulders and steered her away from the sight of the body, directing her to look out of the window, so that she could concentrate on a different sight to the one inside the carriage. Even when she was away from the body, her face remained frightened and her lips were pressed tightly together, and she started rubbing her arm nervously. She was clearly in shock, and Ron knew he would have to look for help alone until she had regained her composure.

Just as Ron turned away from her, his eyes fixed on the burning furnace that powered the train, and he cast about the room, searching for Floo Powder, hoping the fireplace was connected to the Floo Network in case of emergencies. He looked all about the carriage, hoping to find a small urn of Floo Powder, but the tiny space in the carriage held very few surprises, and he was soon forced to accept that there was nothing in there that would help them. Just as he slumped to the floor in despair, a cry came from Hermione, who was still staring out of the window.

"Look, Ron! It's Professor Dumbledore!" Hermione shouted, with obvious relief in her voice. She was almost leaping up at the window, gesturing furiously toward the other side of the bridge and looking far more animated than she had a few moments ago, much to Ron's relief.

Ron jumped up from the floor and looked out of the window, following Hermione's gaze, and saw Professor Dumbledore, flying on a broomstick, robes billowing in the wind, coming toward the train. He was still quite a way from the train, but at the speed he was pushing his broom, he would arrive in moments. There were at least another eight people flying behind him, and even at this distance Ron could make out McGonagall's stern features and Flitwick's diminutive form.

Professor Dumbledore landed first, about halfway down the train, where the tracks were still on firm ground, rather than the bridge. As soon as he landed, he marched toward the rear of the train, clearly in pursuit of Voldemort. He was followed by McGonagall and the other Professors, but they were having trouble keeping up with him. Ron and Hermione looked after them, and they soon saw the Death Eaters emerge from the rearmost carriage to meet them. They were too far away for Ron and Hermione to make out any of their faces, but neither one of them doubted that the dark, shadowy form directing curses at Dumbledore was Voldemort himself.

"Come on... We've got to see what happens..." muttered Ron, almost dragging Hermione with him, running back down the train to a window nearer to the fight. After running through a number of carriages, they came to a carriage with one door open, and they looked out, trying to see how the fight was going.

The Death Eaters were all wearing masks, which Ron recognised as the same kind that the group of troublemakers at last year's Quidditch World Cup were wearing. There were only a handful of Death Eaters, and the Hogwarts Professors seemed to be getting the upper hand, but slowly, and not without some casualties. From here, Ron and Hermione could see at least one body on the floor, still and unmoving.

Voldemort and Dumbledore were fighting furthest away, and neither one of them seemed able to do any harm to the other; every spell that they tried was either dodged or blocked by the other. It seemed that they were too evenly matched for either one to prevail, but it couldn't last. Eventually, Voldemort would manage to strike Dumbledore with an Unforgivable Curse, and then the fight could well be over. The only hope was for one of the other Professors to break through the fighting and help Dumbledore, but it looked like it would be a while until any of them could manage to do so.

Professor Flitwick seemed to be duelling with two of the other Death Eaters, and Ron could finally see how he became a Duelling Champion in his younger days. Despite his size, Flitwick was incredibly agile, and was dodging away from every curse that they sent his way, leaping over some of them while simply avoiding others in an amazing display. The Death Eaters, on the other hand, looked like they had been struck several times, and the movements of one seemed sluggish and slow; Ron was almost certain he had been struck with an Impediment Jinx.

Away from the fighting, Professor McGonagall was turning her Transfiguration skills towards many of the objects that were littered around the area. Bushes and trees were soon transfigured into large animals who were sent to assist the Professors, while smaller objects like rocks had been turned into a flock of birds, which were tormenting the Death Eaters who tried to reach her, scratching at their eyes and obscuring their vision. Eventually, she turned a tree into a magnificent white horse, and rode it galloping into the midst of the battle, casting curses left and right, cutting a swathe through the struggling mass.

Most of the other Professors were engaged in single combat with Death Eaters, and many of them were slowly winning the fight. But a few were losing, and they were losing badly. The fact that the Death Eaters were able to use the Unforgivable Curses meant that they were far more dangerous, and when they managed to strike one of the Professors, they usually stayed on the ground. The Death Eaters that were knocked to the floor were usually only Stunned or imprisoned in some way, and counter-charms were soon cast by another Death Eater. At present, the Professors seemed to be winning, but the longer the battle wore on, the more likely it would be to favour the Death Eaters.

Suddenly, Voldemort stood up, blocking a curse from Dumbledore effortlessly, and raised his wand to the sky, casting the Dark Mark out of his wand. Ron and Hermione watched, horrified, as the dread symbol rose into the mid-afternoon sky, looming over the train and bridge, and seeming the cast a dark smear on the sky itself. Soon, he reason for the Dark Mark became clear, as the Death Eaters began to Disapparate, one by one, until eventually the Hogwarts Professors were all that remained. 

A loud cheer of relief came from several of the compartments nearby, as the other students on the train realised that the danger was over, and the Death Eaters had been driven away. But for Ron and Hermione, their relief was mixed with a sense of terror; they had witnessed the first conflict of what would be many, and they finally realised first-hand the terror of Voldemort's reign.

* * *

Disclaimer: You know, would it really matter if I didn't bother with this? Everyone knows I don't own Harry Potter, so it seems kind of pointless writing these...

* * *

Well, this is the longest chapter so far, but that's no excuse for it taking as long as it has - Sorry for that. As those reading my Profile know, working on a 10000 Final Year Project is swallowing all my time just lately. Chapter 9 is underway, so hopefully I'll get that out quicker than this one. I won't get this story finished before 21st June, but I'll just carry on writing it regardless.

Only one reviewer to thank again! Thanks very much to lan, who reviewed Chapter 7, ages back when I actually posted it... I'd hold the next Chapter hostage, but considering my record with posting, I don't think anyone would notice... ;) (Lol!) Please leave a review, tell me what you think of how this story is going!


	9. Hogwarts at Last

**_

Harry Potter and the Legacy of Slytherin

_**

**_Chapter 9_**

**_Hogwarts at Last_**

As soon as the Death Eaters had Disapparated, both Ron and Hermione hurtled back down the train, back to the closet where they had been forced to leave Harry. They found him still in the closet, but the pain seemed to have stopped. Instead, Harry had slumped to the floor and was crying openly, hot tears trickling down his face. Hermione immediately removed the Silencing Charm, and pulled Harry into her arms, trying to comfort him.

"What happened?" moaned Harry, "What did he do this time?"

"Harry..." Ron said, not sure whether he should tell him or not.

"Tell me... I have to know..." Harry said miserably. For a moment, Ron hesitated, but then he looked into Harry's eyes. Behind the tears, Harry's shining green orbs were shining with determination; he would not let this drop until he knew.

"Voldemort went to the front of the train first..." Ron started, hesitantly, "He killed the driver and the tea lady... Then he went to the back of the train, and we don't know what happened there..."

"Then the Professors arrived... They fought with the Death Eaters at the end of the train, and then the Death Eaters left." Hermione finished. 

"Was anyone else hurt?" asked Harry.

"I don't think so. Ron told everyone to lock themselves into the train compartments, so that they were out of the way. We didn't hear any more noise until the fight started, so I-I think it worked." said Hermione, her voice sounding small and weak. For a moment, Harry looked like he wanted to say something more, but before he had a chance, Professor McGonagall's voice boomed from outside the train, clearly enhanced by the Sonorus Charm.

"All students, please disembark the train immediately!" barked McGonagall's stern voice, "The danger has passed, but it is necessary that you leave the train as soon as possible. Leave your trunks on the train for the time being; they will be collected later. First through third years, please assemble with the Professors at the front of the train, where you will be taken to Hogsmeade by PortKey. Prefects, organise all those in fourth year and above into small groups, to be taken direct to Hogwarts by horseless carriage, which will be arriving shortly. I repeat, all students are to disembark the train immediately!"

As soon as the words sunk in, Ron and Hermione helped Harry to his feet, and the three walked immediately to the nearest door, without saying another word. Harry noticed both Ron and Hermione casting occasional glances at him, but tried to ignore them. Once they left the carriage, they saw hundreds of students pouring out of the doors further down the train, and all three of them hesitantly started toward the growing flock of students, hoping none of them would make a scene.

Fortunately, most of the students getting off the train were either too frightened or too distracted to notice Harry and the others joining them, but a few of the students had clearly been looking out for him, including many of those who had seen him collapse on the train. The Creevey brothers and several of the younger students were silenced by a glare from Ron, and even Fred and George seemed to understand that it would be best for them to keep their distance. 

Looking back toward the bridge, Harry could see the horseless carriages that usually took students from the train to the castle, flying over the gap in the bridge and galloping toward the assembled students, clearly having been sent by the Professors as soon as they heard about Voldemort's attack. A huge crowd of students was already gathering around the place where the carriages were stopping, and Harry, Ron and Hermione ran to join the fringes of the group, waiting to be told to take one of the carriages.

Finally, a seventh-year Prefect from Ravenclaw gestured the three of them toward one of the carriages, and all three of them got inside, closing the door behind them. Out of the window of the carriage, Hermione could see a handful of students looking shocked at the way they were prevented from entering the carriage, but already the Prefect was herding them toward another carriage, understanding that Harry, Ron and Hermione needed to be given privacy. 

At first, none of the three spoke; Harry was still recovering from the pain his scar inflicted on him, while Ron and Hermione were content to give him their support with their presence, rather than their words. Riding in the carriage was rough and uncomfortable compared to the Hogwarts Express, and by the time the dusk was starting to fall outside, the quiet had started to become sullen and oppressive. Eventually, Ron decided to break the shroud of silence, and spoke for the first time since leaving the train.

"It's a shame Voldemort didn't plan this while you were asleep..." joked Ron, trying to lighten the mood. However, his quip did not get the desired effect. Both Harry and Hermione stared at Ron in silence for a few moments, until Ron realised the implication of what he had said.

"Do you think he knows you can see him in your dreams?" asked Hermione, voicing the thought that was going through all their minds.

"Maybe... I don't know. If he does, then he'll plan everything by day, so I won't be asleep." said Harry, worriedly. The idea that he might overhear Voldemort's plans had given Harry some hope that the pain he went through might serve some purpose, and it looked now as if that hope might be gone.

"Well, then Trelawney's lessons might finally do something useful, after all..." Ron said, grinning widely. But Harry knew Ron well enough to know the grin was for his benefit; Ron was trying to take Harry's mind off what happened on the train. Harry gave a weak smile in response, but Ron didn't look convinced, and the three friends fell back into an uneasy silence for the rest of the journey to Hogwarts.

* * * * *

When the carriage finally pulled up in front of the Castle, darkness had long since fallen, and all three of them jumped out into the gloom immediately, making way for the next carriage to stop. The huge, familiar form of Hogwarts Castle loomed over them, giving some comfort to Harry, who began to feel safe for the first time since leaving the Burrow. Without waiting any longer than necessary, Harry started the short walk into the castle, with Ron and Hermione following him.

As soon as they walked into the entrance hall, they could see Professor McGonagall break away from a group of students, and start walking toward them. Her face was red and flushed from shouting at the students around her; she had been organising the evacuation of the train for hours now, and the constant effort it required had left her noticeably tired. Most of the other teachers were in a similar condition, and Harry wondered idly how much longer it would take them to get all the students into the castle.

"Potter, Weasley, Grainger... Professor Dumbledore would like to see the three of you..." she said, looking unusually flustered, "The password to his office is 'Curly Wurly', and I see no reason to keep him waiting..."

None of the three were surprised; Harry had been expecting to be summoned to the Headmaster's office, and Ron and Hermione would have gone with him, whether they had been requested or not. With a quick nod to Professor McGonagall, all three walked through the castle doors, and started making their way through the corridors that led to the Headmaster's Office. Harry led the way, with Ron and Hermione unconsciously falling into step just behind him and on each side, none of the three speaking.

As soon as they came to the huge statue that marked the entrance to Professor Dumbledore's office, Harry gave the password, and entered without pausing, knowing that Ron and Hermione were following behind him. Once the three had reached the top of the massive spiral staircase, Harry knocked on the door and pushed it open, leading the way into the room. The walls were still decorated with the same moving portraits of former headmasters, and on a shelf at the back of the room, Harry could see the Hogwarts Sorting Hat in its usual place.

In the centre of the room, Harry's eyes were immediately drawn to Fawkes' perch, which was empty; clearly, Fawkes was on some errand for Dumbledore, and Harry briefly had an image of Fawkes carrying messages in the same way as his own Hedwig. Behind the desk, all three were greeted by the welcome sight of Professor Dumbledore, sitting in his large, comfortable chair and looking none the worse for wear after the attack earlier in the day. As soon as Dumbledore noticed his guests' arrival, he looked up, and spoke in his calm, comforting voice.

"Welcome, all of you. I hope you were not too disturbed by events on the train here?" Dumbledore asked politely, gesturing toward three chairs in front of his desk. Harry was certain he could feel both Ron and Hermione turn to look at him, but chose not to look at them as he sat down.

"No, Professor." Harry lied. Now he was even more sure that Ron and Hermione were looking at him, and he could also see Dumbledore gazing at him over his spectacles.

"I see..." said Dumbledore, obviously not believing Harry for a moment, "Well, in that that case, I have a few things to say to the three of you." Both Ron and Hermione took a seat, and all three looked at Dumbledore, waiting impatiently for him to continue. 

"First of all... Mr Weasley. I have heard from several of the students that you were rather... forceful... in your handling of events on the train." said Dumbledore.

"Yes, Professor... I shouldn't have acted like that..." Ron looked more guilty than Harry had ever seen him, and wondered what he could have done to make him feel so ashamed.

"Not at all," Dumbledore said, "Sometimes, we must say and do things we do not wish to, under pressure and in difficult circumstances. You may not have liked it, but you did what needed to be done."

"I didn't need to treat Ginny like that..." Ron said miserably, and suddenly Harry understood; Ron must have done something to Ginny, something that had hurt her feelings. Very little else would have made him feel as guilty as he seemed now. A quick glance at Dumbledore showed that he, too, seemed to understand that.

"I am sure that she will forgive you, as the others you spoke to seem to have already," said Dumbledore, with a tiny gleam starting to appear in his eyes, "When the Death Eaters walked down the train, everyone felt much the same as you did, and they were all grateful that they followed your advice. I doubt Miss Weasley will be an exception." Ron brightened slightly, but still looked guilty, and Harry suspected Ginny would be getting a heart-felt apology before long.

"And Miss Grainger... I also wished to speak with you..." said Dumbledore, turning to Hermione, leaving Ron to consider what had been said.

"Yes, Professor..." said Hermione, quietly. She could not think of anything that she had done to gather the attention of Professor Dumbledore, and for a moment, she allowed her concern to creep into her voice. She need not have worried, as Dumbledore smiled at her, allaying the fears he had detected in her voice.

"I have also heard that you were largely responsible for keeping Harry safe, when he was incapacitated... If Voldemort had found him in such a state, it would have been a simple matter to remove him, which would have been an immense loss to us all. Your actions kept him from harm, and I am sure I am not the only one who feels indebted to you for that." Dumbledore said, pride gleaming in his eyes, as it had throughout the brief meeting.

"Thank you, Professor..." said Hermione, blushing profusely at such praise. 

"Thank _you_, Miss Grainger... Both you and Mr Weasley have again proved your loyalty and your Gryffindor courage, and I am sure that they will stand you in good stead in the future. And now, I would like to speak with Mr Potter alone for a few moments, if you wouldn't mind..." Dumbledore said. Although he phrased his request as a question, the tone of his voice made it clear that no argument would be tolerated, and Ron and Hermione rose to their feet, almost in unison.

"We'll be waiting in the Common Room, Harry..." said Hermione, just before she walked through the door after Ron, who seemed in a hurry to leave the room. Once they had left, Dumbledore spent the next few moments in silence, once again gazing at Harry over the rims of his spectacles. Finally, Harry broke the uncomfortable silence that had descended over the room.

"I thought you said you wanted to _speak_ to me for a few moments..." joked Harry, trying to lighten the mood in the room. He was rewarded with a brief chuckle from Dumbledore, whose eyes gave their trademark twinkle once again.

"I did, Harry... I wanted to ask how you were, after the ordeal you went through today. Myself and many of the teachers were extremely concerned for your well-being, and I would be remiss in my duties if I did not bring you here to talk about what happened," Dumbledore said.

"I'm _fine..._" replied Harry, all too quickly. Just as before, all this comment garnered was a disbelieving look from Dumbledore, and Harry soon wavered under his gaze.

"I'm not alright - but I'll get over it. The tea lady and the driver won't..." Harry admitted, leading Dumbledore's face to contort in surprise, and briefly in horror.

"How did you know about that, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, his voice hushed.

"Ron and Hermione told me... We were going to the front of the train when I collapsed... They went on, looking for a way to contact you... They saw them..." Harry said hesitantly.

"I see..." Dumbledore replied, "The two of them are braver than even I suspected... A trait I am finding more and more evident, in these times. Please inform them to keep such knowledge to themselves, and also to seek Professor McGonagall's counsel, should they feel it necessary. I think I shall have to have another discussion with them, at a later time." Harry nodded his assent, and then spoke again, more determined than before.

"Was anyone else hurt?" asked Harry, looking for a reason why Voldemort had attacked the train.

"No... There were no other injuries, thanks largely to the actions of Mr Weasley, Miss Grainger, and the School Prefects, who managed to maintain order." replied Dumbledore.

"But Voldemort didn't want to hurt anyone else, why did he stop the train? He had to have some reason for it, didn't he?" Harry asked. Dumbledore paused briefly before answering, considering his words carefully.

"Voldemort has made attacks on the Hogwarts Express before; it is as much a symbol of life at Hogwarts as the castle itself, and unfortunately, it is far more vulnerable. I do not doubt that it is the first of many attacks, intended for little more than encouraging fear and mistrust in the Wizarding world." he said, quietly and gently. The idea that people had died for nothing stunned Harry into silence; no matter how often it happened, the idea of such senseless suffering would never be something he could accept.

"I wish I didn't have to feel it..." Harry said eventually, "When he kills someone..."

"I know, Harry... I wish there was some way to spare you that experience. Unfortunately, there are some things even magic cannot do." said Dumbledore. But Harry had already moved on to another question.

"But why did it hurt so much when he did it?" Harry asked despairingly, "It never hurt like that before... It was like my mind was on fire! What made it so much worse this time?"

"Voldemort has never killed people in such close proximity to you... Perhaps that is why you felt the pain more than usual..." replied Dumbledore, in a soft, but strangely tight voice. But Harry shook his head immediately, rejecting his mentor's explanation.

"It seemed like more than that... It wasn't just _more_ pain... It was like the pain ran deeper, went further..." said Harry, looking straight into the eyes of Dumbledore, bright green meeting pale, glittering blue. At that, Dumbledore sighed, and his eyes seemed to lose a little of their sparkle. 

"Harry... I sometimes wonder why I bother to try protecting you from these things... You always seem determined to face down your problems head-on, rather than letting anyone stand in your way..." he said, easing back into his chair gently. For a brief instant, he sat quietly while taking in a deep breath, preparing himself for what he was about to say. Meanwhile, Harry sat in silence, never taking his eyes off of Dumbledore's face, waiting to hear what he was going to say.

"Voldemort took your blood to remake himself, Harry..." Dumbledore started, "He stole a part of you, and that part of you is inside him, giving him what life he has. That has almost certainly made the bond between you stronger. That is why the pain, as you put it so well, felt like it ran deeper into your body and soul. Without putting it too bluntly; it did."

For several minutes, both teacher and student sat in silence, one reflecting on what had just been said, the other desperately searching, trying to see how the revelation would affect his student. Harry's expression was carefully, almost mechanically fixed, trying desperately not to show the effect this new realisation was having on him. The link between himself and Voldemort was something he had struggled with ever since he had first learned about it, and now that link had been strengthened, deepened and enhanced.

"It changes nothing, Harry..." said Dumbledore eventually, not fooled by Harry's mask of indifference, "The link you share with Voldemort made no difference before, and it makes none now." Harry nodded slowly at Dumbledore's words, but only seemed to be vaguely taking in what was being said. It was several more minutes before he spoke again.

"Why does it hurt?" he asked, in a quiet, croaky voice, "I know it comes through our link, but it doesn't hurt him to kill someone, does it? Why does it hurt me?" Once again, Dumbledore averted his gaze, and looked reluctant to answer the question he had been asked. But this time, he made no effort to avoid the question, and turned back to Harry after just a short while.

"I do not pretend to know..." Dumbledore started, "The link between yourself and Voldemort is unique, as you know. But I believe Voldemort takes some kind of dark pleasure from the things he does... He feeds off the pain that he causes, and the power he feels from inflicting it. It satisfies some kind of hunger within him, and that is what causes you harm."

"So, whenever he hurts someone... Whenever he kills... I'll feel like this?" asked Harry, horrified at the suggestion that Voldemort's actions gave him this sense of pleasure, while it caused him pain.

"Yes..." Dumbledore replied sadly, "I am afraid you will... But the pain, Harry, is yet another thing that makes you different from Voldemort. He feeds on pain and suffering, while it causes you harm. I would be far more concerned for your well-being if you came to accept that feeling..."

"Then how can I ever stop him?" asked Harry. For a moment, Dumbledore simply stood looking at Harry, amazed at how mature he had become over the last few years. Already, he was accepting the mantle that the Wizarding community had chosen to give him; that of the hero. The events of last year had struck a chord inside him, and given him a burden of responsibility that most would not have to bear until adulthood. It was turning this boy into a man before his time, and Dumbledore knew what a terrible thing that could be.

"You must not expect too much too soon..." he finally said, "Remember, you are still only young, and not yet an adult; you have to grow, and you have to learn. When the time is right, I am certain that you will prove equal to the task. You have never failed before, and I have no reason to believe you will start now." Harry nodded, trying to take comfort from Dumbledore's words, but still sat quietly, seemingly overwhelmed by the events of the day. Dumbledore noticed this, and his face softened into a more comforting, familiar smile.

"Enough talk about Voldemort and what may come..." Dumbledore said gently, "We have all escaped him today, and for today, that is sufficient. I have to assist the other teachers in organising the Sorting for tomorrow, so I must leave you now. Feel free to remain here, if you would like, but please give some thought to your classmates. They, no doubt, are as concerned for your welfare as we are, and would like to see that you are safe. When you feel the desire to return to Gryffindor Tower, the password is 'Honour'."

With those words, Dumbledore Disapparated, disappearing from sight with a distinct 'pop'. For a moment, Harry sat in the chair in silence, wishing that Fawkes had been there to keep him company in the quiet room. But it was not long before he got up from the chair, and walked out of the office door, planning to find his friends in Gryffindor Tower.

* * * * *

It seemed like it took Harry an age to walk through the corridors of Hogwarts leading to the Gryffindor Common Room, wandering the ever-changing walkways in an apparent daze, the words of his meeting still spinning around in his mind. More than once, he had found himself in unfamiliar corridors, his body becoming just as lost as his mind as he allowed himself to wallow in his thoughts. But eventually, he came to the entrance to the Common Room, and gave the password, before walking slowly inside.

As soon as his presence was noticed, the noise in the room seemed to drop slightly. Although a few of the students avoided Harry's gaze, most of them looked back at him without flinching, and even gave him looks of encouragement. In particular, Fred and George Weasley were looking at him with identical cheeky grins, although their eyes were hardened and serious. Next to him, he noticed Hermione standing against the entrance to the Common Room, where she had obviously been standing, waiting for his return.

In one corner of the room, Harry could see Ron embracing Ginny, who looked as if she had been crying. Clearly, Dumbledore had been right; Ginny's terror at the sight of Voldemort had more than erased any ill feeling towards Ron for his attitude. For several long moments, Harry watched the two of them, glad that each of them had the other to depend upon. Then Hermione took him by the arm, and led him to join the others.

* * *

Disclaimer: Much to my eternal regret, I don't own Harry Potter. Still, maybe if I'm really, really good between now and Christmas... *Crosses Fingers*

* * *

Wow... And I thought this would be a short chapter... The next chapter will feature the Sorting Feast, and I plan on writing an original Sorting Song. I'm not sure how long that will take, but hopefully it shouldn't be too much longer than usual.

Thanks to all the people who reviewed since I posted last - Severus Snape, JamesI, Rosaline Heartt, dkscully, me, Snuffles 55 and Queen C. I hope you all enjoyed it, and hopefully some of you came back to read this chapter... Lol!


	10. Early Morning Sorting

**_

Harry Potter and the Legacy of Slytherin

_**

**_Chapter 10_**

**_Early-Morning Sorting_**

When Harry woke up the next day, he pushed the curtains of his bed aside, to see a small pile of trunks next to the door into the dormitory. It looked as if everyone's property had been recovered from the train, and taken to the individual dormitories. But despite the relief Harry had on seeing his trunk again, there was only one thing that caught his attention, sitting on top of the pile.

"Hedwig!" Harry cried softly, rushing forward to open her cage. Luckily, nobody seemed to be awoken by Harry's call, and Hedwig maintained her usual, dignified silence as Harry opened her cage. As soon as it was open, Hedwig flew onto Harry's shoulder, nipping the top of his ear gently, relieved to be released from her cage after so long.

"Yes, I missed you too, girl..." whispered Harry, reaching up to stroke Hedwig's head gently. For a few minutes, Harry just stood in his pyjamas, stroking Hedwig and taking comfort from her presence. Then, Harry had a sudden thought; Sirius would want to know what had happened. Even though he probably knew about the attack already, he would want to hear from Harry, to know that he was alright.

"Do you feel up to a delivery?" Harry asked. Hedwig's response was a soft, gentle hoot that Harry couldn't help feeling was an affirmative response, so he nudged her into perching on the top of her cage while he looked for parchment and a quill. After retrieving them, and giving Hedwig an Owl Treat to munch on, Harry kneeled on the ground in front of his trunk, and started writing his letter.

_Dear Sirius,  
    I'm sure Professor Dumbledore has already told  
you about the attack on the Hogwarts Express yesterday,  
so I won't say anything more about it. My scar hurt a  
lot while it was going on, but Ron and Hermione hid me  
in a cupboard, so Voldemort didn't see me.  
    I just wanted to write to you, and let you know   
that I'm alright. As far as I know, the only people   
who got hurt were the driver and tea lady. Dumbledore  
says this attack was just intended to frighten everyone,  
so maybe that was all he was planning to do.  
    Please let Remus know everyone is alright - I'm   
sure he'll be worried as well. I hope you two are okay,   
and that I can see you both soon.  
    Harry.
_

His hurried note to Sirius finished, Harry attached the note to Hedwig's leg, and walked over to the window. Hedwig was hooting happily; she had been shut in the cage for too long now, and the prospect of stretching her wings was enticing. She didn't need any encouragement to take to the air, and Harry stood at the window watching her until she was just a dot on the horizon.

"Sirius?" came a voice from behind Harry. Suddenly, Harry was struck with a sense of terror, horrified at the prospect that he might have given away his connection to Sirius by sending a letter to him in the middle of a crowded dormitory. But as he spun around to look, he realised that the voice came from a certain redhead, sitting on the bed next to his.

"Was that for Sirius?" Ron asked again, in a slightly more urgent whisper, trying not to wake any of the others. Harry's only response was a short, relieved nod, which seemed to satisfy Ron; details could wait until later, when there were not so many other people in the room. Relieved not to have been caught writing to Sirius, Harry flopped back down onto his bed, and lay still until after the rest of the occupants of the room had started to get dressed.

* * * * *

It was almost an hour later by the time Harry and Ron descended the staircase into the Gryffindor Common Room, and they were surprised to find it empty. Their roommates were nowhere to be seen, and neither was Hermione, or any of the other members of Gryffindor House. For a few minutes, they sat around on one of the sofas, waiting for someone else to appear, but it soon became obvious that nobody else was coming.

Just as Ron was starting to pace the room out of boredom, Harry noticed a piece of parchment attached to the Gryffindor notice board, which was written in a very conspicuous golden ink, which seemed to give off a faint glow all around it. Ignoring Ron's soft muttering, he stood up and crossed the room, and peered at the golden lettering intently. He quickly noticed that it was written in Professor McGonagall's tiny, relentlessly neat handwriting.

"Hey, Ron!" called Harry, "Look at this!" Ron ran across the room to look at the notice, and together, they squinted to read the glowing script. 

**    The Sorting Feast   
    As you are all aware, it was not possible to arrange the   
Sorting for last night, as a result of the events on the   
Hogwarts Express. Therefore, the Sorting will take place before   
breakfast this morning, at eight a.m.   
    Would all students please endeavour to be in the hall before   
this time, so that they do not disrupt the Sorting Ceremony. Classes   
will begin as usual at nine, and timetables will be given out once   
the ceremony is concluded.   
    Signed,   
    Minerva McGonagall
**

As soon as he had finished reading, Ron shot a quick look at the clock in the corner of the room, which gave the time as five minutes to eight. Without waiting for Harry to realise how late they were, Ron grabbed him by the back of his robes, and started pulling him toward the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. As soon as they made it through the Fat Lady's portrait, Ron broke out into a run, closely followed by Harry, who soon caught and passed his friend.

Together, they bolted down the halls of Hogwarts, which were unnervingly empty. Clearly, they were the among the last to get the message about the rescheduled Sorting. As they ran past the silent statues and doors, the only sound they could hear was their own footsteps and rushed breathing. At one point, Harry was sure he heard one of the portraits shouting at him to slow down, but he couldn't wait to be sure. Luckily, Peeves didn't seem to be anywhere in sight, or else a bad situation could easily have become much worse.

When they arrived in the Great Hall, it certainly seemed as if the entire school was already assembled there. The tables looked as full as they always did, and the first years were already gathered at the entrance to the hall. Once they had pushed past the milling crowd of nervous 11-year-olds, they could see the staff table, where all the usual staff were sitting, including Hagrid, who gave them both a hearty wave across the room, and Dumbledore, who simply sat there smiling at them.

It didn't take long for them to locate Hermione, who was sitting alone quite close to the middle of the table. Clearly, she had made sure that the seats nearest to her were not taken up by anyone but them, and Harry suddenly felt guilty for being late; Hermione must have been waiting for some time. As soon as she noticed them, she waved them over, and Harry ran over to her quickly, with Ron not far behind.

"Where have you two _been?_" demanded Hermione, as they quietly slipped into the seats she had left for them.

"We didn't see the notice..." gasped Harry.

"How many times do I have to tell you to check the notice board every morning?" Hermione sighed, looking with some concern at Ron, who was still panting heavily.

"At least one more," mumbled Harry, not in the mood for another lecture so early in the morning. Luckily, Hermione's attention was still taken up with Ron, so his comment went unnoticed. She seemed to be fighting the urge to help Ron, who was still fighting for breath. For a few more minutes, Ron continued to gasp, but it didn't take long for his flushed face to start returning to normal.

"What took you so long, anyway? You should have been up ages ago!" said Hermione, when Ron's face had faded back to a near-normal colour.

"We were up early!" insisted Ron, earning no more then a set of raised eyebrows from Hermione.

"We were! I had to write a letter..." Harry said, giving Hermione a significant look with those last words, to get the implication across. Immediately, Hermione's eyes brightened in understanding, and she looked around to make sure nobody was listening to their conversation.

"So, you've been up in the Owlery all this time? No wonder I couldn't find you in the Common Room..." she said brightly.

"Well, no..." Harry replied.

"What do you mean?" she said.

"I didn't go to the Owlery. Hedwig was sent straight to our room, so I just sent a letter from there..." Harry told her, knowing full well what her reaction would be.

"You sent a letter to Si-Snuffles? In the middle of your dorm room?" said Hermione, her voice rising slowly.

"Quieten down, will you?" hissed Harry, "D'you want everyone to hear? I just wanted to get the letter off as soon as I could, so as soon as I saw Hedwig, I wrote a note and sent her off with it. Alright?"

"Well, I'm glad you managed to get a note to him so quickly, but _really,_ Harry... Sending an owl to him in the middle of the dorm room? What if you'd been seen?" whispered Hermione. She looked sorry for shouting at him, but she still insisted on pointing out his mistake. Luckily, Harry was saved from responding by Ron, who answered the question for him.

"So what? He didn't have to say who the letter was to..." Ron said.

"No, but it still would have been risky... It would have led to a lot of questions if he'd been seen!" Hermione insisted.

"It doesn't mean he has to answer them, does it?" Ron replied.

"No, but do you really want people asking questions? Harry might-" started Hermione, before being interrupted by Harry.

"Shhh!" he said, trying to quieten them both down. For a moment, both Ron and Hermione went silent, and then they realised why Harry wanted them to be quiet; the entire hall had fallen silent, and Professor Dumbledore was standing at the head of the Staff Table, waiting to give his start-of-term speech. As soon as they realised that they had been arguing in front of the school, Hermione blushed a bright shade of red, and Ron seemed to be considering ducking under the table to hide.

"Thank you," said Dumbledore, not seeming at all concerned with having to wait, "I hope everyone will consider my words worth waiting for, even if it does mean delaying your other conversations somewhat. First of all, let me offer you all a somewhat belated welcome to Hogwarts. After the events of yesterday, I am glad to see you all here, safe and well. Hopefully, everyone has managed to find their way here by now, so I can start to give the usual start-of-term messages. First of all, the Forbidden Forest is indeed forbidden, despite certain attempts to rename it the Come-on-in Forest."

Many of the older students gave a small, appreciative laugh at Dumbledore's joke, mainly to encourage the younger children that were standing at the end of the hall. But the little ripple of laughter died quickly, leaving Dumbledore to continue his speech.

"Second, the area around the Whomping Willow is also out-of-bounds, for reasons that should be quite plain to you. Third, Mr Filch has asked me to direct your attention to the list of banned items on the door to his office, as many of you have been carelessly tripping over the lower half of it. And lastly, I would like to introduce to you all Mr Kingsley Shacklebolt, who will be taking over the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

Dumbledore's last comment was accompanied with a quick nod toward the end of the table, where a tall, imposing black wizard was sitting, looking out at the assembled faces of the students in front of him. His eyes were dark and unreadable, and he had a single gold hoop in his right ear, reflecting the early-morning sun across the room. He seemed to be unfazed by being the centre of attention, and Dumbledore soon continued with his speech.

"He will be teaching you to take care of yourselves, in these difficult times." Dumbledore said, in a slightly more serious tone of voice, "As will all the other members of staff, in their own ways. I trust that you will heed their lessons carefully, now more than ever. And now... With no further ado whatsoever, I give you the Hogwarts Sorting Hat!"

Dumbledore finished to a brief round of applause, which he acknowledged with a small smile, before placing the Sorting Hat on its stool in front of the teacher's table. Harry felt a surge of relief at seeing the hat again, happy to see normal events unfold again, and also remembering gladly the time the hat had helped him when he had needed it, down in the Chamber of Secrets. Soon, the clapping started to die down, and Dumbledore returned to his seat, just as the Sorting Hat came to life, and began to sing its newest song.

_    I am the Hogwarts Sorting Hat,  
    And as you will soon see;  
    You'll never find, in all the world,   
    A smarter hat than me!
_

    I'll sort you into the houses,  
    Left by the Hogwarts Four,  
    Where their students will carry on  
    Their names for evermore.

    In Slytherin you'll find the strong,  
    With no time for the weak.  
    Cunning thoughts fill up their minds, and  
    With silver tongues they speak.

    Gryffindor holds the noble and brave,  
    Defenders of the light.  
    With iron will, and lion hearts,   
    They stand for what is right.

    The clever go to Ravenclaw,  
    There to enhance their mind.  
    Quick witted, learned scholars all;  
    They hope wisdom to find.

    While loyalty's home is Hufflepuff,  
    The seat of people just.  
    Hardworking, honest, loyal and true;  
    In them we place our trust.

    So now you're here, where will you go?  
    Which of these houses great?  
    Just place me now atop your head,  
    And I'll decide your fate...

The entire hall broke out into a thunder of applause, all enjoying the Sorting Hat's latest song, and also appreciating the return to normality after the events of the day before. The new students stood at the entrance to the Hall and clapped politely, still too nervous to do much more. On the other hand, the older students were more enthusiastic, and gave a standing ovation, much to the delight of the Sorting Hat; it even bent itself in half, in a rough approximation of a bow.

As soon as the applause had died down, Professor McGonagall stood at the front of the crowd of gathered first years, and started reading from a list of names. Once she did, sound of hushed talking slowly started to fill the room, as those students familiar with the Sorting diverted their attention to those sitting around them. Harry, Ron and Hermione were no exception, and knowing their voices would be lost in the chatter, they spoke freely.

"What do you think Snuffles will do when he gets your letter?" asked Hermione.

"Scream blue murder," said Ron, with a grin spreading across his face. The thought of Sirius' reaction to today's events was amusing, but Harry was still worried about it; Sirius was still a hunted man, and he didn't want to provoke his Godfather into some rash reaction that he would come to regret.

"Oh, be serious Ron!" Hermione said, knowing full well what thoughts would be going through Harry's mind.

"I _am_ being serious!" Ron insisted, "He's going to do his nut when he hears about this!"

"I'm sure Snuffles will be reasonable about it... There's no way Dumbledore could have prepared for the attack without knowing about it beforehand," said Hermione.

"Yeah... But maybe he did know about it..." muttered Ron, looking at Professor Snape with narrowed eyes. Snape was sitting halfway between Dumbledore and the new teacher, Shacklebolt, and concentration seemed to be focused on his dinner rather than his fellow teachers.

"Oh, _honestly_ Ron... What are you accusing Professor Snape of now?" Hermione said, exasperated.

"Well, Dumbledore sent him off on some secret mission over the summer, didn't he? He might have gone back to You-Know-Who, so that he can tell Dumbledore what he's planning..." Ron said.

"I suppose so..." started Hermione, and carried on talking to Ron. But Harry wasn't listening to any of them; he was thinking of the events of the twenty-fourth of June, after the third task of the Triwizard Tournament. 

When Voldemort was talking about his missing followers, he mentioned one who would be punished for being too cowardly to return. Harry was in no doubt that he was talking about Professor Karkaroff, who had been terrified at the reappearance of the Dark Mark on his arm. All over the summer, Harry had been looking for any report in the Daily Prophet that might suggest Voldemort had found Karkaroff, but there had been nothing yet.

But Voldemort also said about another Death Eater, who he believed had left him forever, and would be killed for it. In all likelihood, Professor Snape was the one who had left Voldemort; Dumbledore trusted him completely, and for all his unpleasantness, Snape had never betrayed that trust. Much as Harry disliked Snape, he was afraid that if he was spying for Dumbledore, his life could well be in danger.

"Farrell, Chloe," called out Professor McGonagall, almost unnoticed by the three, as Ron and Hermione were still talking, and Harry was still thinking. Slowly, he directed his attention back to his friends, who didn't seem to have noticed his distraction at all.

"What do you think about him?" asked Ron, nodding towards the dark figure at the end of the staff table.

"Shacklebolt?" said Harry, "Looks pretty normal..."

"Can't be too sane, though, or Dumbledore never would have hired him..." Ron said, remembering the assortment of strange DADA teachers that had taught them in the past.

"Well, I checked the register of former Head Boys - he's in there," Hermione said approvingly, "According to the book, he went on to Auror training, too."

"Cool..." said Ron, "As long as it isn't another idiot like Lockhart, we should be fine..." But he seemed reluctant to meet Harry's eyes, and Harry suddenly realised that Ron was deliberately trying not to mention Professor Moody. For a few moments, all three of them fell silent, thinking thoughts that none of them wanted to voice.

"Slytherin!" came the voice of the Sorting Hat, although none of the three had noticed which student was being sorted. 

"You don't think he could be... I don't know..." Harry said, hesitant to ask what he really wanted to ask. Luckily, Hermione realised what he meant, and saved him the trouble.

"A Death Eater in disguise?" she said, laughing, but not nastily, "I don't think You-Know-Who is going to try the same thing twice, and I'm sure Dumbledore would have checked everyone before they started term..."

Hermione was trying to keep her tone light, and she was fairly successful in trying to seem confident and unconcerned. But her words seemed too familiar and rehearsed, as if she had been asking herself the same question for some time now. Obviously, Hermione was as worried as he was, and Hermione had probably already thought of most of Harry's concerns already. Knowing that someone else was as worried as he was made Harry feel better, and he smiled at Hermione in understanding, a gesture she soon returned.

"Lazenby, Malcolm," came Professor McGonagall's voice again, but her gaze seemed to be fixed on Harry, Ron and Hermione, rather than on the list in her hand. Immediately, all three of them fell silent, long enough to hear the Sorting Hat's call of 'Gryffindor'. Soon after that, McGonagall diverted her attention back to her list, which allowed the conversation to continue.

"I wonder what's going to happen about yesterday..." Ron said, trying to change the subject.

"Well, the Prefects were up in arms about it..." Hermione said, "They had a meeting about it late last night. They're talking about organising student patrols at night, to try and help out the teachers..."

"I hope they don't do anything dangerous..." said Harry.

"What, like taking a stroll down forbidden corridors guarded by three-headed dogs?" Ron asked. His teasing had the desired effect, as Harry visibly relaxed. If there was anything the Prefects couldn't handle, Dumbledore would never let them patrol at night, and he knew it.

"I'm just worried about the new first years... A lot of them were really scared when they arrived. I wouldn't be surprised if some of them weren't sure about staying here..." Hermione said, concern clear in her voice.

"I'm sure they'll stay. If Dumbledore can't convince them, nobody can." Ron said. Harry nodded in agreement, and Hermione looked comforted too. 

"Warren, Eretria," came the last name on the list, and soon after came a call of 'Ravenclaw' from the Sorting Hat. Without any cue whatsoever, the soft chatter died almost immediately as Dumbledore stood again, ready to start the feast.

"The Sorting is now complete," Dumbledore was saying, "and in a moment, the feast shall begin. First, I must direct you to the piece of parchment that will shortly appear in front of you. These are your timetables for the new year, and you will all notice that classes begin this morning. I feel that, under the circumstances, it would be best to resume a normal routine as early as possible. Therefore, I must ask you to make sure you do not linger too long at the tables, and ensure you leave in plenty of time to retrieve your books. Tuck in!"

As soon as the words left Dumbledore's mouth, a breakfast feast appeared on all four tables, much to the surprise of some of the new arrivals. On top of each plate was a parchment envelope, which Harry assumed contained the schedules for the year. Most of the timetables were immediately moved to make way for food, but a few students opened them up and started reading the contents.

As usual, Ron immediately went to the food, sweeping the envelope onto the table and starting to pile bacon and sausages onto his plate with glee. Hermione, on the other hand, went straight to the envelope, tearing it open and quickly reading through the contents. Torn equally between curiosity and hunger, Harry paused long enough to retrieve a slice of toast and a glass of pumpkin juice from the golden plates on the table, before turning his attention to the new timetable.

"Wha's n'xt 'Arry?" Ron said, through a mouthful of bacon and egg. Hermione looked at him with a look of resigned disgust on her face, and rolled her eyes at Harry, who grinned in response.

"Looks like Charms," Harry replied, "Then Transfiguration. Not too bad for a first morning..."

"When's Potions?" Ron asked, his mouthful of food swallowed, and his voice full of dread.

"Thursday afternoon... And Defence is on Thursday morning." Harry said, putting the timetable away, and reaching for some eggs.

"Think we'll learn how to defend ourselves against Snape?" Ron said, earning a laugh from Harry, and an amused grin from Hermione.

"No... They won't do advanced stuff like that until the NEWTs..." was Harry's brief reply, before he started eating his breakfast. For several minutes, all three went silent, as they tucked in to their food hurriedly, not wanting to be late for their first lesson of the year. It wasn't long before even Ron had eaten sufficiently, and Hermione was reaching for her bag, ready to go to the lesson.

"Hey, how come you brought your bag to breakfast?" Ron asked, staring at Hermione.

"Thought it would save time later..." muttered Hermione, who was putting her timetable in the front of her bag.

"But how did you know what to put in there, before we got our timetables?" Ron asked, bewildered. Harry looked at her expectantly too, wondering how she knew what books to prepare.

"I've got them all! Shrinking Charms are a wonderful thing, you know..." Hermione said, with a sly grin on her face. 

"You could have told us you were doing that! We could have done it too!" Ron complained.

"I would have done, if you hadn't been so busy sending letters in the middle of the night..." she said tartly.

"But now we've only got... 5 minutes to go!" Ron wailed, unhappy at the thought of another run through the school.

"Well, you'd better get going then, hadn't you?" Hermione said, winking at Harry before she walked out of the Hall. For a minute, Ron just looked at her retreating back in shock, until Harry nudged him to get his attention.

"Come on... We'd better get going..." he said, sighing. The prospect of another run across the school was not appealing, but he had very little choice. Ron, unexpectedly, started grinning at the thought.

"Bet you a Chocolate Frog I can snatch Hermione's bag before you can..." Ron said, before setting off at a sprint. Harry shook his head despairingly, and then ran to catch Ron up. He had no intention of snatching Hermione's bag, of course. But he wouldn't want to miss Hermione's reaction for anything.

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. And since I can barely afford to own _me_, I'm obviously not making any money off of this...

* * *

Okay, first of all - I'm sorry this took so long. A lot of things (Not least reading OotP!) have delayed this chapter a lot longer than necessary. I am still continuing the story, and it's going to stay as a fifth year fic. I need the Weasley twins in Hogwarts, so there's no way to change it to fit around OotP. 

You'll also have noticed Kingsley Shacklebolt popping up - he's very similar to the OC I had planned, so I just used him instead. Luna and Tonks might make appearances later too, but they won't be as important to the plot as they are in OotP.

Now, to the usual bit - saying thanks to all the patient reviewers who have made their presence known since last time. Much thanks to www.me, Inu Yokai, myrhfire, brownbear, Sirius_Black, skysong and Mella deRanged. I hope most of you have come back to read this chapter, and enjoyed it.

There will, of course, be no prizes whatsoever for noticing the (quite obvious) Pirates of the Caribbean reference in this chapter. However, if you want to point it out for the others, then you know precisely how to do it... ;)


	11. Classes Begin

**_

Harry Potter and the Legacy of Slytherin

_**

**_Chapter 11_**

**_Classes Begin_**

Over the next few days, life returned to what passed for normal at Hogwarts - lessons began, friendships were renewed, and old enmities were rekindled. With the exception of the new students, who appeared to be milling around uncertainly in the Common Room almost twenty-four hours a day, everything seemed to be just as it was before the Third Task of the Triwizard Tournament. The corridors were filled with noise, and Harry almost started to feel overwhelmed by the rush of people who suddenly seemed to be running around the school halls.

Fortunately, everyone in the school seemed intent on leaving Harry alone for the moment, rather than pestering him for details about the past few months. Even Malfoy seemed to occupied elsewhere, apart from those moments when he shared lessons with Harry. For the most part, Harry was grateful for the lack of attention, as it saved him from examining his feelings too closely, and afforded him a degree of anonymity while he became accustomed to the usual routine of Hogwarts lessons.

By Thursday, most of the fifth year Gryffindors were eagerly awaiting their first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson. Just like previous year, they were almost the last to experience the new teacher, and the rumours that were already circulating the school simply added to the expectations for that first meeting. Harry, Ron and Hermione went straight to the Defence classroom after breakfast, but by the time they got there, the corridor was already full of their fellow students, waiting outside the locked classroom door.

To begin with, there was absolutely no sign of Professor Shacklebolt, even when the time for the lesson was approaching. The corridor was quiet with expectation to begin with, but as the students realised that their teacher might be running late, a buzz of conversation started to build among those who were milling around the door. Most were simply talking about the events of the day, but a considerable number of them were discussing the strange rumours about their new teacher. 

Seamus had overheard two third-years talking, and they seemed convinced that he was Professor Moody's protégé, sent to keep an eye on Hogwarts on his behalf. Others believed that he was a close friend of Dumbledore's, and that Shacklebolt's presence here was the result of Dumbledore trading in another of his innumerable favours. Most of the other rumours were more ridiculous, including one that claimed he was descended from one of the Vampire Counts of Transylvania, but Harry found himself wondering just what the truth behind their mysterious new teacher was.

Just as the clock in the corridor struck nine o'clock, a loud click emanated from the door, suddenly cutting off all conversation in the hallway. For a few moments, the only sound in the entire corridor was the distant sound of the second-years being ushered into the Transfiguration room, as everyone stopped talking and realised that their teacher had been inside the room all along, possibly listening to every word that had been said. Eventually, Hermione hesitantly pushed the door open, and walked into the room, with Ron and Harry right behind her. Not to be outdone, Malfoy pushed his way to the front of the group, and led the rush to follow them through the doorway.

The Defence classroom was almost the same as it was last year; the walls were the same, and the room was lit by the lamps around the room, more than by the thin, arrow-slit windows. The corners of the room were gloomy and uncomfortable, and most of the students were trying to get seats as close to the front as possible, where the light was most reliable. Ron sat down in the second row quickly, with Harry and Hermione sitting on either side of him, and Malfoy sitting in the seats behind them, much to Harry's annoyance.

On the desk sat a collection of Dark Detectors and other artifacts, similar to the ones that had once been arranged in Professor Moody's office. But everyone's eyes were drawn to the same dark form that stood behind the desk, the same one that had been sitting at the staff table all week. His hands were resting on the back of his chair in a gesture of control, and his eyes flickered impatiently over the children as they trickled into the room, and started to pull their books, parchment and quills from the bags. 

"Welcome to your first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson," he said gruffly, once the noise of shuffling chairs had died down, "My name is Kingsley Shacklebolt, as I hope you remember from the sorting feast. I will be teaching this class for the coming year, and-"

"Just this year?" Malfoy drawled, "You don't think you'll survive any longer than the others then?"

The Slytherin half of the room gave a small, derisive chuckle, while Shacklebolt turned to face Malfoy, and briefly glimpsed down at his register. His face stayed carefully neutral, but Harry was sure that he could see a flicker of recognition behind his dark, unreadable eyes.

"Malfoy, Draco. Is that correct?" he asked, in a no-nonsense tone. Malfoy's smirk seemed to sink even deeper into his face in response, before he replied with a simple 'yes'.

"Yes, _Sir_, Mr Malfoy. You will show the proper respect in this classroom, or you will explain to your father why you have failed your OWL in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly," was Malfoy's only response, although his tone showed anything but respect, and the grin on his face never flickered for an instant. Luckily for him, Professor Shacklebolt seemed willing to let it go for the moment.

"As I was saying, I will be teaching this class for the coming year. I am taking a year away from my chosen profession to bring your education up to scratch, and I expect to see that my time has been well spent. There will be no messing around, no skiving off, and no mischief of any kind. I hope that is understood."

This time, there was no doubting the flicker in Shacklebolt's gaze, as his eyes flicked to Harry when he said those last few words. His eyes didn't have the same soul-searching qualities as Professor Dumbledore's, but the scrutiny in that one brief look was unmistakable. Not for the first time, Harry wondered if Dumbledore had informed the staff about the Marauder's Map, and how it was once again in his possession.

"In this class, you will learn to defend yourselves against the weapons and tactics of dark wizards," Shacklebolt continued, "That is why you are here. You are not here to learn about what they do, nor are you here to read about other people's exploits. If you want to do that, then the History of Magic classroom might be more to your liking."

Harry wasn't sure if that was meant to be a joke or not, and nobody else in the classroom seemed to know any better. Nervous smiles were exchanged in a few places, but for the most part, the room stayed silent.

"From the notes left to me by Professor Dumbledore, I can see that you seem to know what you're doing as regards dark creatures, and even a fair bit about curses. But you know almost nothing about dark artifacts, or even dark detectors. Your defensive spells and protective charms are well short of what I'd expect, too. That will have to change, and quickly."

For some reason, Harry was certain that Professor Shacklebolt was looking at him again, but before he could meet the teacher's gaze, Shacklebolt had already turned away. But Harry still caught his breath, expecting to hear more details about Voldemort's return, which had not been easy to come by over the summer. However, he was to be disappointed by the next words from Shacklebolt's mouth.

"After all, your OWLs are coming up. And if any of you expect to get higher than an 'A' in them, you'll need to show me something much better than an essay on werewolves," he said, chuckling. With those words, Shacklebolt turned his back on the class, and resumed his place standing behind his desk, watching how his students reacted. Briefly, Harry wondered if he ever sat down in his chair, or if he just kept it for the sake of appearance.

"Put those books away," he said, after a long pause where he seemed to be sizing the class up, "You have your own time to read in, so we won't be using any of mine. Wands out, and get yourselves into groups of four."

The whole class shook themselves visibly out of their attentive stare, and immediately started putting their books back in their bags, and grabbing hold of the nearest friends to form a group of four people. Before either Ron or Harry could react, Hermione had pulled Neville over to their table, and sat him down in a nearby vacant seat, ready to start the exercise. Ron looked less than impressed with Hermione's choice of partner, but kept his thoughts to himself, rather than say something in front of his friend.

"The first two spells I want you to learn are the Shield Charm, and the Deflect Charm. Their respective invocations are _Protego_ and _Aegis_, and each is a defensive spell. The Shield Charm will protect you from weaker jinxes and curses, while the Deflect Charm is for use against solid objects, like projectiles and Muggle weapons."

"Weaker jinxes?" Malfoy scoffed, "_Muggle_ weapons? Why would we need to be protected against them? Hardly Dark Arts weapons, are they?" His outburst didn't seem to impress Shacklebolt, who sidled toward Malfoy's desk, and spoke in a deep, but soft voice.

"You have to walk before you run, Mr Malfoy," he said, "And judging from the past notes for this class, I would be surprised if some of you could crawl..."

Despite the implied insult to the class, many of the Gryffindors in the room gave a small chuckle; it was obvious that the only person meant to take offence at the remark was Malfoy himself. But just like before, all the comment seemed to do was wash over Malfoy's smugness, rather than denting it. After the brief laugh had died down, Shacklebolt returned to his lecture, dismissing Malfoy from his attentions.

"With practice," he said, "you can use these spells in an offensive manner, by turning the jinx or weapon against its user. I do not expect this to happen overnight, but I do expect to see it by the time you sit your exams next summer. That means practice, for each and every one of you. I recommend you keep your group close to you; you are going to need their help over the coming months."

Once again, Ron seemed less than cheerful about the idea of extended practice with Neville. Harry was surprised about Ron's attitude, as he had never seemed to avoid practicing with Neville before, even though Neville sometimes had difficulty with learning difficult charms. But Harry had no time to think about it, as Shacklebolt was still talking to the class.

"First, we will practice the Shield Charm. In your groups, I want one of you to choose a small, weak jinx, and use it to attack one of the other three at random. Do not tell them who - this is an exercise in preparation, as well as spellcasting. After you have made your attack, the next person in the group will do the same. Carry on until I tell you to stop. Begin."

Shacklebolt left his class to their activity, and began a slow, predatory walk around the room, observing what was happening, and making sure there was no mischief. At first, he wandered around the whole of the room, but before long he started remaining at the Slytherin half of the classroom, to keep a closer eye on Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and another boy Harry didn't recognise. Crabbe and Goyle were having their usual problems with the new charm, but Malfoy seemed to have mastered the spell already; he was already using his shield to reflect a Laughing Charm back at Goyle.

"Think Daddy's been giving him some private lessons?" Ron said, nodding in Malfoy's direction.

"Looks like it..." Harry replied, as Neville directed a Tripping Charm at him. He managed to get his shield up in time, and sent the charm flying across the room, where it dissipated against the wall.

"Maybe he's just got the hang of the charm quickly," said Hermione, watching Ron warily, waiting for him to attack.

"Nobody gets the hang of it _that_ quickly, Hermione! Come on - he must have known this charm before the lesson!" Ron said, before firing off a charm at Hermione, just as she had anticipated.

"Just because you two don't read our set books before term, doesn't mean nobody else does..." Hermione said huffily, sending Ron's Tickling Charm straight back at him. Ron was taken by surprise, and didn't have time to erect his own shield, so he began giggling uncontrollably, to the point of bending at the waist to hold his sides.

"I just want to know why Malfoy's so prepared all of a sudden..." Harry grumbled, before casting a Jelly-Legs Jinx at Hermione. Once again, she neatly sent it across the room, although this time, she didn't return it to the sender. 

For the next few minutes, all four of them fell into a more hushed rehearsal of the charm, concentrating on the spells that each were sending against the others. There were also occasional spells coming from the other groups in the room, as the deflections from other people's shields shot past. At one point, a stray Sneezing Charm struck Ron from behind, much to Harry and Neville's amusement, as he sneezed in the middle of casting a charm at Hermione, making a mess of both the charm and Hermione's robes in one swift motion. Fortunately, a quick cleaning charm was enough to remove all traces of Ron's mistake, if not his embarrassment.

"Everyone stop!" came Shacklebolt's voice. He was standing next to Malfoy, and for the first time looked less than calm about events around him. Both Crabbe and Goyle looked as if they had been hit by several minor curses, but he made no attempt to send them to the Hospital Wing. Their injuries were not serious, and it struck Harry that a belief in learning through experience would fit in well with what he had seen of their new Professor.

"Now that you seem to have got some idea of how to cast the Shield Charm, you can begin work with the Deflect Charm," he continued. "I will be giving you all some pebbles, which you can use as projectiles in your attacks on the rest of the group. Be careful to aim for people's chest, rather than their faces - I don't want anyone missing any class time for stupid injuries. Stay in the same groups, and begin as soon as I have seen you."

Once he had finished speaking, Shacklebolt plucked a handful of small boxes from his desk, and started to distribute them between the small groups. He seemed to say a few short words to most of the groups, but when he came to Harry's group, he simply handed the box to Hermione and walked away without comment. Harry also noticed that he had come to their group last; after he had finished, he returned immediately to stand in place behind his desk, in his usual, watchful position.

"I'm going to feel silly throwing pebbles at you..." mumbled Ron, still slightly embarrassed about what had happened with Hermione.

"What, you'd rather throw knives or something?" Harry teased.

"No... But couldn't we throw something a little bigger? I'm going to lose these things..." he said. Harry looked into the box, and saw that Ron had a point; the pebbles did seem unnecessarily tiny, about the size of a large pea. They were also a very eye-catching blue colour, which he assumed was to make them easy to find at the end of the lesson. He didn't feel like asking their teacher about it though, and Ron didn't seem to either, as he resignedly took a handful of pebbles, and moved aside so that the others could take some.

"I'm sure there's a perfectly good reason for their size, Ron..." said Hermione, once everyone had resumed their positions.

"Yeah... Maybe we're meant to keep track of where they go, after we block them..." said Neville, looking at the stones sadly. He didn't look confident in his abilities to watch where they went.

"I suppose so... Or maybe they're just meant to be harder to see when they're coming at you?" Harry agreed, giving Neville an encouraging grin. He knew that his friend would be able to handle the task, as long as he didn't lose faith in himself.

"Yeah, well... I still think we should be starting out with something a bit easier to see..." Ron grumbled.

"If it was easy to do, then we wouldn't learn anything, would we?" Hermione said, throwing the first pebble at Harry, who turned it aside easily, and watched it drop harmlessly to the floor.

"But what if one of these goes in your eyes or something?" he said, half-heartedly throwing another pebble at Harry. 

"That's why he said to throw them at people's chests, Ron..." Hermione sighed, flicking a pebble neatly at Ron, which he didn't manage to block in time; it bounced harmlessly off his arm, and he quickly pulled another stone from his hand to throw back at Hermione. His aim wasn't as good as hers though, as the stone flew a few inches wide of her ear.

Harry shot Neville a quick glance, and he saw an all-too-familiar expression on his face. Ron and Hermione's arguments seemed to be reaching epidemic proportions, and this was just the latest of them. Harry assumed a similar long-suffering expression, and started to throw pebbles at Neville. Just because their partners were distracted was no reason for them to miss out on practicing the activity.

"Be more careful, Ron!" Hermione hissed, as she glanced behind her to make sure the wayward stone had not hit anybody.

"See what I mean? These things could go anywhere! There's no telling where they might end up..." Ron complained.

"It wouldn't be a problem if you would just watch what you were doing!" Hermione said, her voice starting to take on a distinct and unpleasant edge.

"We're here to _learn_, Hermione... Mistakes might happen! We can't all be as perfect as you without even trying, you know..." Ron said. Harry just rolled his eyes in their direction, earning a muffled snigger from Neville, and no reaction at all from the pair of fighting teenagers.

"You think I don't try? I work _bloody_ hard to be good at things! Maybe you should try it sometime!" Hermione said, her voice wavering a little. Clearly, Ron had managed to touch a nerve, but fortunately, he was too busy getting angry to take notice of the fact.

"We already know we aren't as good as you are, so there's no need to rub it in all the time! Is that why you hang around with us all the time? To make yourself feel good about being so much better than you?" Ron spat out, before he could stop himself. As soon as the words were out, his face seemed to fall, as if he knew that he had gone too far, but there was nothing to help it now; he had spoken, and nothing could take the words back now.

"N-No... Of course not..." Hermione stammered, "I don't think I'm better than you at all..." 

She was looking beseechingly at Ron, and he seemed to believe her. What little anger he still had visibly drained out of him at the look on Hermione's face, and for a minute, he just stood there, gaping at the look on his friend's face. Both Harry and Neville stopped their practice to look at what was happening, unable to keep their curiosity at bay. Ron started to reach his hand out to Hermione, but he held himself back at the last minute, and let it drop back to his side uselessly.

"I'm sorry..." Ron started, but he was quickly cut off by a voice bellowing from across the room.

"Alright, that's enough of that!" bellowed Shacklebolt, looking toward Ron and Hermione for the first time all lesson. "This is a place to learn, not chatter! Keep it quiet!"

Both Ron and Hermione looked somewhat embarrassed to be told off in front of the entire class, especially with Malfoy in the corner of the room, making spectacularly unsubtle gestures behind Shacklebolt's back. Hermione looked especially embarrassed, as she still had what looked like unshed tears in her eyes, although Harry didn't think anyone else in the room would be able to see that. For the rest of their lesson, they practiced the Deflect Charm in a most uncharacteristic silence, barely daring to glance at each other. 

By the end of the lesson, their blushes had faded, but Neville seemed distinctly uncomfortable by the way they were acting. As soon as Shacklebolt had dismissed them, he bolted from the room, getting out of the classroom as quickly as possible. Most of the class didn't take much longer to leave, and were gone long before their Professor had collected the pebbles strewn around the room. Harry and Ron were ready to go with the others, but Hermione seemed to take longer than usual to pack her bag, so by the time they emerged from the classroom, the corridor was long since empty, leaving them some privacy to speak.

"So, what do you think about Shacklebolt now?" Harry asked, just as Hermione was closing the door behind them.

"He seems alright to me..." admitted Hermione, "I think he could make better use of the reference materials, but he does seem to know what he's doing..."

"Yeah, he's a lot better than Moody ever was..." Ron said, still a little put out by being told off in front of the class, but managing to be quite complementary.

"Not one for small talk though, is he?" Harry said.

"I don't know..." Ron joked, "Some of his talk seemed pretty small to me..."

"Just because he doesn't feel the need to chatter doesn't mean he's a bad teacher, Ron..." Hermione said.

"No, just an unfriendly one..." Ron replied.

"He's not here to make friends, he's here to teach us to defend ourselves..." 

"Can you two finish this off later?" demanded Harry, "I'd hate to go to Potions on an empty stomach..."

"I just hate going to Potions..." grumbled Ron, but he obligingly let the argument drop, in favour of going into the hall, intent on devouring the hard morning's work of over one hundred house-elves.

* * *

Disclaimer: There are many things I don't own. A decent computer is one of them. Harry Potter is another.

* * *

Next chapter, everyone's favourite greasy-haired Professor will return. He was going to make an appearance in this chapter, but it just got too long for me to fit him in. I'm also planning a birthday surprise for Hermione, but I'm not sure if that will be in the next chapter, or the one after.

Anyway, thanks very much to everyone who reviewed since the last chapter was posted - Mella DeRanged, smol, Lourdes, Harsh and Inu Yokai. I even got a positive review for my Author's Notes, which is encouraging - at least I know somebody reads them. ;) I'm not sure how quickly the next chapter will be up, as I'm also working on some original stuff. But it will be as quick as possible, I promise.

_    Under the terms of Educational Decree Thirty-Six, all readers of this and any other     work on ff.net are hereby ordered to leave a review. Those who refuse to do so will     report to me on Monday for one week's detention.     Signed,     Dolores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minster, High Inquisitor of Hogwarts.
_


	12. Severus Snape, Master of Misery

**_

Harry Potter and the Legacy of Slytherin

_**

**_Chapter 12_**

**_Severus Snape, Master of Misery_**

A little over an hour later, Harry, Ron and Hermione were walking down the corridor toward the entrance to the Potions Room, when they came across the crowd of people waiting for Professor Snape to come back to the dungeons. This time, the door was unlocked, but nobody dared enter the room without Professor Snape being present. If one of the Gryffindors were caught inside the Potions Room before their teacher arrived, then they would find themselves with detention for a large portion of their life at Hogwarts. Even the Slytherins waited outside, even though they had little to fear from the Head of their own house; Professor Snape would never give them a detention in front of the assembled Gryffindors, but incurring his wrath was still a bad idea.

Draco Malfoy was standing closest to the door, flanked as ever by his two cohorts, Crabbe and Goyle. Although it wasn't immediately clear what he was talking about, it seemed to be of great interest to the other Slytherins, who were mostly gathered in front of him. The other Gryffindors were on the other side of the corridor, keeping away from whatever was going on. That was worrying enough, but the look on their faces when they saw Harry and the others really said that something was wrong. Neville's face was the most noticeable, but all the Gryffindors had a similar expression of shock and concern. Whatever Malfoy was doing, it was bad, and it seemed to involve one of more of them.

"What's going on?" Ron asked, as soon as he was close enough to the others to do so, "Is Malfoy sharing hair care tips?"

"Not exactly..." Neville mumbled. He looked incredibly uncomfortable, and he wasn't particularly keen to speak at all. Malfoy, on the other hand, had no such reluctance, and he chose that moment to join in the conversation.

"There you are, Potter..." he said, "And the Weasel too, of course. How much do you pay him to hang around with you? I can't imagine it's very much, but you do get what you pay for. A shame you've never learned that..."

Ron looked furious at Malfoy's words, as Harry expected, but he also managed to keep his anger in check, despite the laughter of the other Slytherins, which was echoing across the stone corridor, making it sound ten times as bad as it actually was. Ron's ears did start to burn their distinctive Weasley red, but that was all. Hermione, on the other hand, seemed less willing to take Malfoy's taunts lying down, and she stepped in front of Ron, glaring at Malfoy with intense loathing. At first, Malfoy seemed surprised at the way Hermione was looking at him, but then his smirk seemed to reassert itself, and he simply smiled confidently in the face of Hermione's stare.

"Get a new act Malfoy..." she finally spat out, "You're pathetic."

For a moment, Malfoy looked surprised that she would speak to him like that, and he wasn't the only one; Hermione rarely spoke in such a crude, blunt manner, even to Malfoy. There were shocked faces on both sides of the corridor, but Malfoy's was probably the best. Unfortunately, like the look he had worn before, it didn't last. The irrepressible, irritating smirk returned after only a moment, and it wasn't much longer before he was coming back with another snide comment.

"What..." he said slowly, allowing every word to sink in for the full benefit of his audience, "would a filthy... little... Mudblood... know about other people being pathetic?"

Malfoy's words had the desired effect; the Slytherins gave soft cheers at the word 'Mudblood', just as the Gryffindors' hands twitched in the direction of their wands. Hermione, in spite of herself, turned her head just a fraction, showing how the taunt had got through her defences. She recovered herself just as quickly as Malfoy had, and met Malfoy's gaze again, but not before giving Malfoy a clear indication that he had hit home. Even as Hermione looked toward him again, she could see that he was already thinking of a way to press the advantage.

"Don't call me that..." Hermione hissed angrily, making the only response she could think of. She was fighting to keep tears from her eyes, as the Slytherins began to chant the word over and over again. She was dimly aware of Ron behind her, his hands gripping his wand in fury, but she remained between him and Malfoy, trying to prevent a fight that would get Ron into more trouble than Malfoy.

"Call you what?" Malfoy asked, tauntingly.

"You know what..." Hermione said, not quite whimpering, refusing to say the word out loud.

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about, _Mudblood_..." he said, putting more venom into the word than anyone had thought possible. Even the Slytherins had stopped their chanting, to listen closely to what Draco was saying to Hermione. The Gryffindors, on the other hand, were also looking at Malfoy, and they also saw the way Hermione was interposing herself between him and Ron. If Hermione wanted to keep this between herself and Malfoy, then who were they to argue?

"You do..." Hermione whispered angrily, "You know exactly what I mean, you miserable little ferret..."

Hermione was just throwing insults out in anger, trying to give herself time to regroup before Malfoy said anything more. But once again, Malfoy looked surprised, and maybe even a little confused, by Hermione's comment, but the moment didn't last very long. And the moment before he spoke again was even shorter.

"Tell me something, _Mudblood_... Why are you friends with Potter over here? Does he pay you off too? Or does he pay you in ki-" Malfoy started, before he was cut off by Ron charging into him, and tackling him to the floor. That seemed to be the signal for the rest of the Gryffindors to join in the fight, too; Harry was only an inch or so behind Ron, while Dean, Neville and Seamus dived straight into Crabbe and Goyle's path, stopping them from getting involved. 

Before long, most of the Gryffindors were involved in the fight; even Parvati and Lavender leapt in, trying to hold back the oversized form of Millicent Bulstrode, while Hermione did her best to subdue Theodore Nott with a couple of carefully placed charms. Harry, Dean and Neville were managing to handle Crabbe and Goyle between the three of them, while Seamus was caught between his sense of chivalry and the need to keep Pansy Parkinson away from where Ron was pinning Malfoy to the ground. He was having some success with pushing her back, without actually hitting her, but it wouldn't be long before Parkinson managed to get past him, and find some way to involve herself.

Ron, for his part, seemed to have decided not to get involved in the larger fight, and concentrate solely on Malfoy. Ron was flushed and breathing heavily, as he punched Malfoy repeatedly, trying to get as much punishment in before Malfoy was able to get up off the floor. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to take Malfoy very long to throw Ron off; he managed to twist himself out from under Ron in one quick motion, and was back on his feet almost as quickly. In the next instant, he drew his wand out of his pocket, and cast the Full Body-Bind Curse on Ron, making him crash painfully to the floor. His head hit the floor very hard, and to everyone's horror, Ron just lay there, completely still.

Malfoy, on the other hand, seemed to spring up from the ground as soon as Ron was no longer pinning him down. Almost before anyone noticed, he had his wand in his hand, and was casting a curse in Harry's direction, neatly tripping him up, and giving Crabbe and Goyle the upper hand. But that was just a quick curse, sent off on his way to his true target - Hermione. Hermione was still distracted with keeping Nott out of the fight, so she didn't see him coming until it was far too late, and Malfoy made sure she would have no time to react. As soon as he was close enough, he lashed out with his fist, and caught her on the side of the head, knocking her to the floor as well. Luckily, she managed to avoid hitting her head on the hard stone floor, but she was still sprawled out on her back, and Malfoy's blow had been enough to stun her somewhat.

It was immediately clear that Malfoy's actions had helped the other Slytherins to get the advantage over the Gryffindors, as three of the Gryffindors were now out of the fight. Crabbe and Goyle were pummelling Seamus and Dean, while Neville was trying his hardest to keep out of Nott's clutches, while the girls of each house were now involved in a fight all of their own. Meanwhile, Malfoy concentrated his attention on Hermione, who was still lying on the floor in a daze, while looking worriedly at Ron, who still had yet to move. Malfoy stood over her, and slowly lowered himself down to the ground, so that he was leaning dangerously close to Hermione's face, his lips almost touching her nose. 

"You snivelling little Mudblood... Why they let filth like you in this school I will never know..." Malfoy spat out disdainfully, so that nobody else could hear. What he was going to do next, however, would remain a mystery, as an unwelcome voice from the entrance to the corridor chose that moment to sound over the general din.

"What is going on here?" Snape rasped, refusing to raise his voice, as ever. Even though his voice was little louder than normal, it was still enough to make everyone jump, and several people made desperate attempts to look as though they were never fighting in the first place. Ron also took this opportunity to get back onto his feet, rubbing his head where it had struck the floor.

"That was the most disgusting display I have seen, during the whole of my tenure at this school..." Snape hissed, "And if it were up to me, several of you would find your places at this school under _very serious threat_..." There was no mistaking the glance that Snape gave to Harry and Ron at this point, and they both had the sense to keep quiet, rather than irritating the Potions Master further.

"Unfortunately, it is not up to me. So, each and every one of you will report here for a detention, next Monday at eight pm-" Snape started, before he was interrupted by Malfoy, who had leapt away from Hermione at the first sign of Snape's presence.

"All of us?" he spluttered, clearly in disbelief. He was not alone; the Gryffindors had expected to bear the brunt of Snape's displeasure alone, and this development came as a surprise.

"That is what I said, Mr Malfoy. You were all involved in the fight, so I am forced to punish you all, or none of you. As I said, you will all serve your detention next Monday at eight. Make sure you do any homework you may have before the lesson, because you will not have enough time to do it afterwards."

A few of the Gryffindors relaxed slightly at the sound of Snape's words, but only a little. This was most likely the closest to a fair hearing as they would ever receive from Professor Snape, and it gave them some hope that their detention might not be as horrible as they had feared. Unfortunately, that hope did not last long.

"However," Snape continued, "as the Gryffindors were clearly responsible for starting the fight, I can see no problem with adjusting their punishment accordingly... Fifty points from Gryffindor should suffice, I think."

The Slytherins grinned to themselves, although they restrained themselves from cheering. The detention would be much easier to bear, knowing that the Gryffindors were being punished worse than they were. Malfoy was the only one who looked less than satisfied with the way things were going, but Snape's back was turned, so that fact went unnoticed. Snape, on the other hand, had turned his attention to Hermione, who was still sitting on the floor, where Malfoy had knocked her just a few moments before. The look on Snape's face was unreadable, but it was clear that he was not finished yet.

"Now, get up off the floor, Grainger..." Snape said, his voice as cold and unforgiving as the stones Hermione was sprawled on. Slowly, gingerly, Hermione got to her feet, trying to brush some of the grime from the dungeon floor from her robes. Ron moved to help her, but she quickly waved him away, not wanting to be seen to need help. All the while, Snape stood still and watched, completely silent until Hermione had finished brushing the worst of the dirt off.

"Better, but not much," Snape finally said, "A further ten points from Gryffindor for lying down in the corridors. And another ten for the filth all over your robes," Snape sneered, and waved the students behind him into the classroom. Malfoy looked as if he was having trouble keeping his laughter to himself, and satisfied himself with giving the three of them a long, condescending glance before following the crowd inside.

"But, Professor..." Ron started, trying to defend Hermione, and ignoring the pain in his cheek, "It was Malfoy who-"

"Shut _up,_ Weasley! Now, get inside, before I decide to take more points from you for your cheek!" Snape rumbled, turning his back on all three of them. As they didn't want to incense the Potions Master further, they all shuffled after him quickly, following him into the dank room. They took the only three places that were still available, at the front of the room, just as he was starting to address the class.

"Now, we are already behind, thanks to certain members of this class," he started, with a significant glance at the front row of desks, "So let us not waste any more time. Today, I will attempt to teach you how to make the Revitalis Potion, which can be used to recover energy after exerting yourselves. It may come up on your OWLs, as may any potion taught this year or last. Therefore, I suggest you at least _try_ to learn this material, in order to spare yourselves humiliation later..."

Snape then proceeded to write a lengthy and complex potions formula on the blackboard, interspersed with several thinly veiled derogatory comments about the abilities of the Gryffindors in the class. Fortunately, all of the Gryffindors were used to their teacher's attempts to provoke them, and they managed to keep their temper, although Hermione had to lay a warning hand on Ron's arm more than once. The instructions that Snape was relaying were quite detailed, and before long everyone was scribbling furiously, trying to take down what Snape was writing as quickly as possible.

"Any potion last year might come up on our OWLs?" moaned Ron, as he dipped his quill into an inkwell, "Why couldn't he have told us that last year?"

"It's not his fault you weren't listening last year, Ron..." Hermione said, not glancing up from her notes for a moment. Even though Snape had just taken twenty points from Gryffindor because of something that wasn't Hermione's fault, her natural respect for her teachers still prevented her from making any open complaint about him. But from the way she chewed the words out, it seemed as if her respectful attitude was in very vocal conflict with her better judgement.

"Like it would make a difference... He'd change the lessons just to spite us, you know he would..." Ron replied, looking to Harry for support. But Harry wasn't paying any attention, looking at Snape as he continued writing on the board. Although Harry couldn't honestly claim to have spent a great deal of time looking at Snape's back, it looked as though the Potions Master was carrying himself more awkwardly than usual, and his back looked as if it was extremely stiff, and very difficult to move. Nothing in Snape's face showed any sign of difficulty, but Harry expected nothing less from the stoic teacher.

"Does Snape look different to you?" he said finally. 

"Snape? No. Same hooked nose, same greasy hair, same evil smirk..." Ron opined, without even looking at Snape at all.

"No, look at him..." Harry insisted. He had abandoned note taking for the moment, despite the problems it would cause if Snape were to catch him. Once he pulled Ron's arm away from the parchment it was resting on, Ron began to look at Snape more closely, but a blank expression still prevailed on his face; either Harry was mistaken, or Ron just wasn't seeing the same thing he was. There was only one way to find out which, however.

"Hermione!" Harry hissed, as loud as he dared in the front row of the Potions classroom.

"Hold on a minute..." Hermione muttered back, not willing to look up until she had finished her sentence. Both Harry and Ron looked at her patiently, knowing that Hermione's notes were important to her - and to them too, as theirs were now severely behind. If they were to have any hopes of making today's potion successfully, then they would have to share notes with Hermione.

"There!" she said in triumph, looking up finally, "Now, what is it?"

"Do you think Snape looks different?" Harry said quietly. He didn't want to point out what he was looking for, so as not to give Hermione any idea what she could be seeing. He wanted an honest opinion, and he knew that was precisely what he would get. For several long minutes, the only sound was the surrounding quills, scratching on the parchment, as Hermione looked at Snape intently, her eyes looking for anything out of the ordinary about their teacher's appearance.

"You know, I think he does..." she said eventually. Her notes were now forgotten as well, much to Ron's horror; Snape was still giving instructions to the class, and Hermione was the only one who would have been able to catch up with the notes in time. But Hermione's attention was well and truly riveted by Snape now, just as Harry's had been a few minutes ago. Snape's discomfort was clear, and that made the wheels turn in Hermione's head, wondering what could be the matter with him.

"It looks as though he's in pain..." Hermione said at last, stating what Harry was already thinking, "But I don't know what he could have been doing to hurt himself so much..."

"Maybe he just fell down a staircase, or something..." Ron mumbled, more worried about Snape's lesson than his injuries.

"No... If he'd just fallen down, Madam Pomfrey would have been able to heal him in a minute!" Hermione said.

"I don't know... He's not really one to look for help, is he?" Ron replied.

"No, but I don't think he'd be stupid enough to mess about when he's hurt his back, either. He wouldn't do anything to risk making it worse." Harry pointed out. He was right; Snape may be a stoic, private individual, but he wouldn't take any chances with something as potentially serious as a back injury.

"Exactly," Hermione confirmed, "So that only leaves one possibility - Madam Pomfrey can't do anything for him."

"Could it be too serious to be healed with magic?" Ron asked, "Some injuries can't be, you know..."

"Possibly..." said Hermione, "But if it was, I don't think he'd still be teaching. In fact, I don't think he'd be _moving..._"

"So, Madam Pomfrey probably can do something, but she won't... Why?" Ron said, not understanding where this discussion was going.

"Because she's not allowed to. You know her, Ron - she'd never let anyone wander around injured unless there was some good reason," Harry said.

"Unless he can't be healed..." Hermione mused.

"I just _said_ that, Hermione!" Ron hissed, exasperated.

"Not because he can't be healed _by magic_, but he can't be healed _at all_. He needs to keep the injuries, for some reason..." Hermione went on, barely acknowledging Ron's comment. Harry, on the other hand, was nodding. He had already come to the conclusion that Hermione seemed to have reached.

"He has to look like he's in pain," Harry said, "because somebody's watching him, and they're expecting him to be hurt."

"Well, most of the Slytherins could be keeping an eye on him for their parents..." Ron said, finally taking an interest in what was happening, "But why?"

"Because Voldemort wants to find out what he does. Malfoy could be keeping an eye on Snape now, and some of the other Death Eaters must have children in other years..."

"You think You-Know-Who is watching him?" Ron said.

"Who else? He's the only person I know who would torture someone, and then send people to make sure they were still in pain..." Harry pointed out, a little bluntly.

"I guess... But why would You-Know-Who just torture Snape? I thought you said he was planning to kill Snape?" Ron said, before Hermione cut in.

"Remember what Professor Dumbledore said after the Third Task, about how Professor Snape knew what he had to do? He must have been telling Professor Snape to go and watch You-Know-Who again, like he did last time!" 

"So, now You-Know-Who isn't sure what side Snape's on, so he's testing Snape's loyalty!" Ron finished.

"Exactly," said Harry, glad they had reached the same conclusion he had. "Snape was Dumbledore's spy before, and he's trying to get back in again. But Voldemort's punishing him for not going back quicker, and testing his loyalty at the same time."

"So, if he's spying on You-Know-Who, then why is he-" Ron started, but he was cut off by a soft, dangerous voice, that came from just in front of them.

"Is this a private discussion, or can anyone join in?" Snape said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. They had been talking for too long, and Snape had caught them in the middle of their conversation.

"N-No... We were..." mumbled Hermione, embarrassed to have been caught.

"No matter, Granger..." said Snape, sounding thoroughly bored, "I doubt whatever you, Potter and Weasley discuss is worth taking up the class' time, let alone my own. Another five points from Gryffindor, and if I hear you talking again, you will spend even more of your time in detention."

With that, Snape walked away, leaving the three of them looking quite abashed. Once again, they had become the focus of attention for the Slytherins, who shot mocking glances at them for most of the rest of the lesson. Even a couple of the Gryffindors looked annoyed, as if Harry and the others were deliberately trying to make Snape's foul mood worse. But that wasn't a huge concern for Harry, who was far more worried about what they had been talking about than what the other members of the class thought about him. The thought that Snape might be spying on Voldemort made him worry more than he would like to admit. No matter how much Professor Dumbledore trusted Snape, there would always be that little doubt in Harry's mind about how much he deserved that trust.

For a while, all three of them concentrated almost exclusively on getting their potions right, rather than talking about what might have happened to Professor Snape. At first, it looked like a completely hopeless task; none of them had completed the notes, and the board had already been erased. Fortunately, Hermione had studied the potion over the summer, and she managed to guide Ron and Harry through the steps without too much difficulty. Before long, they just got used to copying everything that Hermione did, without asking questions. But when all three potions needed a few minutes to simmer before the next step, Ron took the opportunity to ask a question that had been bothering him for most of the lesson.

"Do you think he knows what we were talking about?" whispered Ron, as he leaned over to inspect his potion.

"I don't know..." Hermione said, sounding worried, "I mean, if he knew, he wouldn't exactly have told us, would he..."

"I don't think he did," Harry said. "If Snape knew what we were talking about, he would have taken a lot more than five points from us."

"Good point," said Ron. He then returned his attention to his cauldron, satisfied that they had not been caught.

"But how can we know for sure?" Hermione asked, still worried. It was a good point; Snape was more likely to let them off their Potions homework than intentionally let them know about something like this.

"Well, we could always try the direct approach..." Harry said.

"What do you mean, Harry?" Hermione asked, suspiciously.

"Ask him."

"_What?_" hissed both Hermione and Ron, in perfect unison.

"I could ask him what happened," Harry said. "It's got to be worth a try, hasn't it?"

"He'll never tell you, Harry!" Ron said, fighting his urge to yell the words at the top of his voice.

"Probably not..." Harry admitted, "But we might be able to get something out of what he tells us. He's not likely to curse me for asking a question, is he?"

"Well, it could be worth a try..." murmured Hermione, who seemed less than convinced that it would work. Ron, on the other hand, didn't seem convinced that Snape wouldn't curse him, but he kept his thoughts to himself. Luckily, Hermione asked another question, to cover Ron's silent thinking.

"When are you going to ask him?" she said.

"After class... There's no point putting it off any longer than I need to. I'll wait behind after everyone is gone, and ask him when the room is empty." Harry said. Hermione nodded her agreement, and a sharp glance from her got Ron's approval, too. Neither of them looked very happy about the idea, but neither was Harry.

For the rest of the lesson, the three of them worked on their potions in silence, not wanting to invoke the wrath of their teacher any further, especially if Harry was going to try and talk to him after the lesson. Several times, Snape cast suspicious glances in their direction, but he didn't come over again, except to look down his long nose at their potions. It was almost as if he had decided they were beneath his notice, but Harry was sure he was keeping an eye on them, even if he wasn't making it very obvious. The Slytherins continued their silent mockery, of course, but that was barely noticeable, as all three of them had more important things on their minds.

Finally, the end of the lesson came, and everyone took samples of their potions to the front desk, for Snape to mark before the next lesson. Harry waved Ron and Hermione off, and took as long as possible to prepare his potion for marking, so that by the time he got to the front, everyone else had already left the room. He knew that Ron and Hermione would be waiting outside, making sure that nobody was listening through the door, so that what happened remained between them. As soon as he saw the look on Snape's face, Harry began to question the wisdom of his simple plan, but it was too late now, so he pressed ahead regardless.

"Professor Snape..." Harry said, "Can I ask you something?"

"If you feel it necessary, Potter..." Snape sighed, trying not to sound exasperated, but failing to do so. His back was turned, as he placed the potion samples on a shelf, giving Harry another glance at how painful his back must be. That thought gave Harry the confidence to continue, so he did so at once.

"Well, I noticed that you seemed very stiff today, like you were having trouble... with your... back?" Harry said, trailing off as Snape turned around to look at him. As soon as Snape's face came into view, Harry realised he had made a grave mistake by asking Snape directly. Snape's face was like a picture of silent fury, framed by his black hair, which seemed to be quivering with rage. But it was the eyes where the anger shone through the most, looking like two small, tightly clenched balls of pure hatred, boring right into Harry's eyes. After a moment where they both sat and stared at each other, Snape began to speak, in a very tight, controlled voice.

"Potter... The Headmaster may give you all the latitude he wishes. That is his right, as the Head of this school. Just as it is _my_ right as your teacher to tell you to _leave your over-protected nose out of things which do not concern you!_" Snape said, emphasising the words in a low, dangerous hiss.

Harry pulled back from the desk as soon as Professor Snape began to raise his voice, and was already moving slowly toward the door, trying not to do anything to irritate him any more. Even though Snape's drawling voice barely rose any higher than normal, it was still enough to convey his quiet, bubbling anger at not managing to conceal his discomfort. Without saying another word, Harry turned and almost dived through the door, closing it behind him, just to have something between him and Snape's fury. It wasn't long before he saw Ron and Hermione, standing together by the corridor, and he ran to join them, relieved to leave Snape and his mystery behind for the time being.

* * *

Disclaimer: Quite frankly, if I told you I owned Harry Potter, and you believed me, then you would deserve everything you get. :p

* * *

Okay, first off - I am immensely sorry that this has taken as long as it has. The last few weeks have not been easy, and I have had more important things to worry about than fic, I'm afraid. :( Still, I hope it was worth the wait. This chapter also continues the trend of being the longest yet, if anyone is interested.

Chapter 13 is already underway, and will feature Hermione's birthday, and another confrontation for Harry. I hope it will be out before the end of the month, but I really should never make another prediction as long as live. ;)

Now, I get to thank my wonderful and long-suffering reviewers, who have waited so long for this chapter. So, thanks to stevethecool and Inu Yokai - I'm glad someone is still reading. Lol! Now, I am going off to write the next chapter, in the hope that it will be done quicker. Happy Single's Awareness Day, as that is on Saturday. ;)


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